


The Anatomy of Attraction

by gayliete



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Dirty Thoughts, Doctors, Eve polastri - Freeform, F/F, Gay, Gay yearning, Haunted past, Hot Sex, I Miss Christina Yang, I Watched Too Much Grey's Anatomy, Lesbians, Milf Eve Polastri, Mutual Attraction, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Soft Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Villanelle, domestic villaneve, kind of a slow burn?, medical AU, soft soft soft, talk dirty to me, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayliete/pseuds/gayliete
Summary: “Eve,” Villanelle whispered in a voice filled with longing and desire.Silence closed around them as they leaned into one another, their eyes locked. Villanelle’s lids were heavy, her throat tight, as she watched Eve’s lips slowly part. A breath away, then not even that. Oh God, yes.When Villanelle Astankova, a young trauma surgeon, accepts a position as an ER physician, her new boss, Eve Polastri, suspects that she is hiding a dark secret. While the two declare an uneasy truce in an effort to work together, both struggle with mutual, and unexpected, attraction.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 65
Kudos: 352





	1. Talented Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone done a medical au before? Probably. Anyway, I always wanted to do a medical au because Villaneve as doctors is VERY sexy to me and I’m lowkey missing Christina Yang :/  
> I don’t know how often I’ll update but I have a few chapters already written up. When I get a schedule I’ll let you guys know. Enjoy :)

Villanelle Astankova stopped just inside the sliding double glass doors of the emergency room. It was only the second time she'd been there, but it already felt like she knew the place like home. Hospitals everywhere were very much the same—the same washed-out tiled floors, the same grey color schemes in uniform shades, the same stark feeling of loss and despair, noticeable beneath the thin facade of hospitality and welcome.

With a brief glance, she swept the admissions area to her left, noting the solitary receptionist with her head bent over a computer screen and two patients, both of whom looked to be half asleep, waiting in the clinical area beyond. A television, perched high in one corner with the volume turned down low, was tuned to a news channel.

Hitching up her backpack and mentally squaring her shoulders, Villanelle walked down a corridor that was just wide enough for two stretchers to pass. She nodded to a lone man in khaki work clothes who was buffing the floor with an electric polisher and turned into the nurses' station that occupied the center of the emergency room. Despite the fact that PMC, the Philadelphia Medical College, was one of five major university hospitals in the metropolitan area, the emergency room had an abandoned aura at just six after that Monday morning.

The few hours on the cusp between the end of the weekend and the beginning of the workweek tended to be the quietest time of all in the ER. The night nurses were finishing their paperwork and getting ready for the change of shift, the residents were running down lab and x-ray results before turning over their patients to the incoming teams, and the attending physicians were catching a couple hours of sleep in their on-call rooms.

Villanelle scanned the area to accommodate herself in the new space. The patient cubicles were arranged in a U-formation around three sides of the central workstation, a large open area enclosed by waist-high counters. Inside were computers, fax machines, racks of patient charts, drawers containing all manner of forms, and nooks for the staff to complete paperwork. At the moment, the curtains were closed on several of the adjacent examining rooms, suggesting that there were patients inside awaiting final treatment decision, and the faint beep of an EKG monitor marked time somewhere in the background. A lone resident—or possibly an older-than-average medical student—sat behind the counter making notes in a chart.

Villanelle approached and leaned her hip against the edge of the long narrow countertop. The woman looked up, a question in her eyes.

"Yes?"

For just an instant, Villanelle hesitated. The very common emergency room uniform of a scrub shirt and pants tended to reduce everyone to gender-neutrality, but not this woman. Nothing could diminish her singular presence. Her almost carelessly layered, voluminous mane of waves framed a face remarkable for its olive-toned skin, deep brown eyes, and perfectly balanced features. Despite the attractive picture of delicately arched brows, finely etched cheekbones, and full, ripe lips, it was the sharp intelligence in the inquisitive gaze that captured Villanelle's attention and drew her in.

"Can I help you?" Eve Polastri asked again, her eyes quickly scanning the woman's open-collared dark blue blouse and slacks as she attempted to place her. Not a patient—she would have remembered. Certainly, the chiseled features, blazing catlike green eyes, and dark blond hair formed a visage not easily forgotten, but Eve drew a blank. She suddenly found herself being boldly appraised, and that not only surprised but annoyed her. "I'm sorry. This is a restri—"

"I'm Villanelle Astankova," Villanelle said quickly, extending her hand. "A new ER attending. Maybe you can show me the locker—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a shout from the hall caught the attention of both women. They turned as two EMTs careened into the ER pushing a gurney.

"GSW to the chest, pressure's 40 palp," the first EMT yelled.

Rising quickly, Eve pointed. "Put him in trauma one."

"Where's your attending?" Villanelle demanded sharply as they sprinted behind the stretcher.

"I—"

"He just lost his pulse," the second EMT announced breathlessly. "Shit. He's flatlining."

"Never mind," Villanelle snapped to the resident as she grabbed sterile gloves and a mask from a cart just inside the procedure room. She tied on the mask, ripped open the package of gloves, and pulled them on. "Just find me a thoracotomy set and open it."

"Two nurses and a wild-eyed medical student ran into the room, pulling on gloves, and instantly began the choreographed trauma routine without the need for instruction. One nurse immediately cut off the patient's clothing, the other hung a fresh bag of normal saline and ran it wide open, and the student collected blood samples in multicolor, rubber-topped vials.

"Can you handle tubing this guy?" Villanelle asked, sparing the other doctor a quick glance as she poured Betadine directly from the bottle onto the patient's chest. "Or do you want me to? You need to be quick."

"I've got it," Eve replied evenly. She picked up the curved laryngoscope, which resembled a thin flashlight with a right-angle extension, from a cart beside the stretcher, slid it deftly into the unconscious man's throat, and followed with a plastic endotracheal tube that she passed between the vocal cords and into the trachea. It took her less than ten seconds to complete the maneuver and attach the breathing tube to a ventilator.

"Nice," Villanelle grunted.

"Elena," Eve said to the nurse beside her, "get me some morphine and succinylcholine, will you?"

"Sure." The nurse cast a curious look in Villanelle's direction and raised an eyebrow.

Eve muttered, "New attending."

"Ah," was all Elena said as she drew up the drugs and passed the syringes to Eve, who then injected them into the IV line.

"Pressure?" Villanelle asked as she reached for the number-ten scalpel.

"Nothing," one of the other nurses replied.

"Okay, then. Somebody call and get some blood down here stat." As she spoke, Villanelle placed her left hand on the chest with her fingers palpating the fourth and fifth ribs just below the man's nipple and cut a long incision in the space between them directly into the chest cavity. She was about to ask for the rib spreaders when they appeared in her field of vision. "Thanks." _Smart resident._

"No problem," Eve murmured as she peered over Villanelle's shoulder. "Elena, hand me the suction, please."

Eve cleared the clots from around the heart and watched as Villanelle used scissors to open the pericardium, the dense fibrous covering around the heart. She'd seen a lot of surgeons do the same maneuver and had done it herself, but she couldn't remember ever seeing anyone's hands move so quickly or so well. "Tamponade?"

Cardiac tamponade was a condition in which the heart was unable to pump effectively because it was being compressed by a collection of blood or fluid inside its own containing cover.

"Looks like it," Villanelle replied, gratified to see the heart start to beat. She slid her fingers underneath the left ventricle and carefully turned the heart. "And a big mother of a hole back here, too."

"Pressure's coming up," a voice announced.

"Not for long, not unless we get this bullet hole closed up." Villanelle never took her eyes off the beating organ in her hand. She never looked away from the field when she was operating, because it broke her concentration and cost her several seconds of precious time to refocus on the wound. She held out her right hand and hoped to hell that someone there knew something about surgery. "I need a three-0 silk on a taper needle. That's a—"

Miraculously, it appeared in her hand. _Very smart resident._ As she placed a purse-string suture in the "muscle around the hole in the left ventricle, she heard the pleasing voice behind her tell the nurses to call the OR and alert the chest surgeons that there was a patient coming up who might need a bypass.

"Did it hit the hilum?" Eve asked, referring to the vessels behind the heart that supplied blood to the lungs. She noted the perfect placement of the sutures and the slick, economical way that Villanelle handled the instruments. _She's an incredible surgeon._

"Don't think so." Carefully, Villanelle tied down the suture, hoping as she always did at this point that the muscle would hold and not shred as the knot was tightened. "Can you get a chest tube in and hooked up to suction?"

"It's ready to go as soon as you get that bleeding stopped."

Villanelle straightened and met the appraising brown eyes. Behind her mask, she grinned, flushed with success. "My part's all taken care of, Doctor. Now let's see how you do."

Eve chose a spot one interspace above and just lateral to Villanelle's incision and made a one-inch incision of her own. She guided a blunt hemostat between the ribs and into the chest cavity, " then pushed a thick, rigid tube through the opening she had made. The chest tube would create suction inside the thoracic cavity, allowing the lung to re-expand. While Eve worked, Elena hung the first unit of blood.

"He's ready to transport," Eve said as she connected the tube to the Pleur-evac, a canister designed to collect blood and fluid while removing unwanted air from around the lung.

The entire resuscitation had taken fifteen minutes. Villanelle and Eve pulled off their gloves, lowered their masks, and walked out into the hall, while the nurses and the medical student prepared the patient and his various monitoring devices, lines, and intravenous bags for the trip up to the operating room.

"Well, now I feel right at home," Villanelle said, rolling her shoulders to ease some of the tension. _Just like old times. Almost._

She glanced down with a grimace, realizing that her slacks were soaked with blood. "I need to shower and change. Can you get me some scrubs?"

"Come this way." Eve strode toward a connecting corridor. "I'll show you where the locker room is. There are plenty in there."

"Thanks."

As they walked, Eve took the opportunity to study the newcomer.

She'd already seen her work, and the new attending was exactly as she had been advertised. Villanelle Astankova, aged twenty-eight, was a fully trained general surgeon who had just completed a trauma fellowship in New York City.

Her résumé had been impressive, and her performance just now matched her reputation. But of course, there hadn't been anything in her academic profile to suggest that she was, in addition to being an accomplished surgeon, a strikingly attractive woman, slightly above average height, lean and tight and boldly handsome. Cocky, too, as Eve had anticipated. Begrudgingly, she admitted that Astankova just might have reason to be. _She has magic hands._

"Here it is," Eve announced, pushing open a door marked _Staff_. "Take any open locker, and check with the ward clerk, when you're ready. He'll give you a key."

"Thanks again." Villanelle leaned her shoulder against the door frame and regarded Eve appreciatively. Beautiful, smart, and skilled. _Things are looking up._ "What year are you? You did a really nice job in there just now."

"So did you, Dr. Astankova." Eve extended her hand. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Eve Polastri, the chief of emergency services."

Villanelle blinked. "Shit." One eyebrow lifted and the corner of her mouth quirked into a grin even as she realized that she'd just spent her first half-hour on the job treating her new boss like an underling. "Not a great way to start, I guess."

She shook Eve's hand, instantly struck by the warm strength in the long tapered fingers. The contact felt good, and she wondered if she was the only one to feel the slight spark of attraction. When she searched the brown eyes, she saw nothing but a polite greeting, and, reluctantly, she released Eve's hand. "I didn't recognize you. I'm sorry."

"No need to be," Eve said neutrally, ignoring the speculative look in Villanelle's eyes. "What better way to get acquainted?"

 _I could think of a number of ways._ Villanelle tried hard not to stare at the soft swell of breasts beneath the dark blue scrub shirt or at any other part of Eve Polastri's very attractive physique. She did take note, however, of the thin gold band on Eve's left hand with a brief twinge of disappointment. _Well, that takes care of that._

"Trial by fire, I guess. At least now I understand why you're so good... for a resident." Villanelle tried for a bit of humor, but the ER chief merely nodded faintly, her expression impossible to decipher.

"Come find me when you're settled, and I'll give you a brief rundown of our operation." Eve turned and walked away. She had been opposed to hiring Villanelle Astankova, but it had been decided before she'd even had a chance to cast a vote. She didn't want a surgeon on her staff, especially one she didn't know anything about. Now she'd just have to make the best of it.

Villanelle watched Eve stride purposefully down the hall, wondering at the hint of animosity she'd felt from the other woman. _Usually, it takes me more than half an hour to piss someone off._

Villanelle sighed. This was not where she'd imagined herself being a year ago. But then again, nothing in her life had turned out the way she'd expected. She was lucky to have gotten this position, and now she'd just have to make the best of it.

~

"So what's the story?" Elena Felton asked as she settled onto a stool next to Eve in the nurses' station.

"Huh?" Eve looked up blankly from the paperwork that she was completing on the GSW victim, presently known as UMV-unidentified male victim. "Story... ?"

"Dr. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous."

Eve stifled a sharp retort, uncertain as to why the question aggravated her. She'd known Elena for years now, ever since they'd met when Elena was just a medical student and could barely figure out how to start an intravenous line. She'd lost count of the number of times that she had bailed her out of difficult situations, and in the course of their professional association, they'd become close friends as well.

"I told you that we were getting a new attending," Eve replied, tapping her pen restlessly on the countertop in a completely atypical fashion. _Why am I so bothered right now?_

"Yeah, but she's not the usual ER doc, now, is she?"

"No," Eve admitted pensively, thinking about those talented hands, "she's not."

_~_

_THREE WEEKS AGO_

_"How could you hire someone for my department while I was on vacation?" Eve was so enraged she could barely stay in her seat. "I never even had a chance to interview her. "_

_Jess Mayfield, the chief of medicine looked honestly guilt-ridden. "I came up unexpectedly, and I knew that you had a position open. I had to make the decision quickly to get the salary approved for the upcoming fiscal year._

_"You could have called me to discuss it. Elena knew where we were."_

_"You know how these things go, Eve." She shrugged. "The chief of surgery contacted me and asked me to interview Dr. Astankova that very day. Her credentials were impeccable, and I owed Hendricks a favor."_

_"Great. Politics," Eve said in disgust. "I need a full-time ER doc, not a prima donna surgeon who probably can't tell a heart attack from heartburn."_

_"It won't hurt to have a surgeon permanently on staff in the emergency room," Jess pointed out. "It will be very good for the residency program, and it will cut down on the number of surgery consults you'll need to request. That will make the HMOs happy."_

_"Did it ever occur to you to wonder why a surgeon would want to be an emergency room physician?" Eve shook her head. "What's wrong with her?"_

_"Nothing that I could see. Undergraduate at Duke, med school and general surgery at NYU, and one of the premier trauma fellowships in the country at St. Michael's."_

_"I ask again, what's wrong with her?" Eve leaned forward, her displeasure evident. "Come on, Jess. No surgeon would take this position if there weren't some kind of problem in their background. It doesn't offer either the status or the salary of surgery."_

_The chief of medicine lifted her shoulders helplessly. "I honestly can't shed any light on why she wanted this job. She comes highly recommended with absolutely nothing in her files to tarnish a stellar record. I was delighted to get her, and since she's officially a joint surgery and medicine hire, their department has to do all the work of credentialing her."_

_"More politics. I'm telling you, someone's hiding something." Eve stood, still furious. As far as I'm concerned, she's on probation in my department. If she makes one mistake or steps out of line, she's gone."_

_"Of course," Jess said. "I won't stand in your way if you have cause for dismissal. Just give her a fair chance."_

~

In the time between her conversation with Jess and today, Eve had reviewed Villanelle's CV and made a few discreet calls to friends from medical school and residency who had contacts at St. Michael's where Villanelle had trained. Unfortunately, she didn't know much more about Villanelle now than when she'd first been told to expect a surgeon as the newest member of her department. All anyone could tell her was that Villanelle was rumored to be a young star, and if her star had burned out, no one knew why.

"If there is a story, I haven't heard it," Eve said with a sigh.

"She was slick this morning in that trauma," Elena pointed out mildly.

Yes."

"And she's so hot the air around her sizzles."

"God, Elena, Robin shouldn't let you out of the house without a chaperone."

The woman laughed. "After five years and two kids, Robin knows she doesn't have to worry. I was just making an observation."

"You have drool in the corner of your mouth."

Elena started to raise a hand to her lips, then snorted. "Haha. And I suppose _you_ didn't notice?"

Eve grew very still, disconcerted when Villanelle's intense green eyes and easy grin came instantly to mind. "No."

"Eve, come on," Elena said gently, resting fingers on her friend's forearm."Sooner or later—"

Abruptly, Eve stood. "Let's not go there again, okay? Please."

"I'm sorry." Elena rose and gave Eve a quick hug. "You know me, just can't mind my own business."

"It's okay." Eve forced a smile. "Now, which room did you put the guy with the chest pain in?"

"Number four. The EKG is by the bedside. The T-waves are peaked, but they're not flipped, so I think it's just angina."

"Did he respond to that nitroglycerin?"

"Yep. Felt better in thirty seconds."

"Good," Eve said absently, glancing down the hall toward the locker room. "I'll be in with him for a while. Keep your eye on Dr. Astankova. She might have good hands, but she probably doesn't know anything about medicine. Don't let her go killing anyone."

"Yes, boss," Elena murmured softly, wondering as she watched her friend disappear into one of the curtained rooms just what it was about Villanelle Astankova that bothered Eve quite so much. She doubted that in the small world of the hospital and the intimate environment in which they spent much of their day that it would take very long for the answer to become apparent.


	2. Chief Complaint

Villanelle stuffed her street clothes into an empty locker, pulled on a pair of navy blue scrubs and sneakers, and, hoping to get on better footing with her new chief, went in search of Eve. She found her reading through a stack of papers in the staff lounge, a small, windowless space tucked into a rear corner of the emergency room.

The area was unadorned and harsh in appearance—the only decoration was a bulletin board with the obligatory rules and regulations covering everything from waste disposal to bomb threats, alongside a large erasable 12-month calendar showing the staff's shift assignments. The furnishings consisted of a single grouping of end tables and chairs along one wall and a central table that looked as if it had been stolen from the hospital cafeteria.

"You said you wanted to go over some things," Villanelle said as she helped herself to coffee from the warmer on the counter. It was her first and only cup of the day, and she fervently prayed it would be decent. She took a cautious sip. _Not bad at all. Maybe that's a good sign._ She and Eve were alone, and Villanelle waited for an invitation before sitting down. "Is this a good time to talk?"

"Any time that it's quiet for five minutes in a row is a good time," Eve said with a soft sigh, pushing the messages aside. Most of the time, she enjoyed the administrative aspects of her position, but the paperwork was never-ending. She gestured to the chair opposite her at the stained gray table. "I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet with you when you were here to interview in June."

"So am I." Villanelle kept her voice neutral and her face expressionless, wondering if they _had_ met if Eve would have hired her. At the moment, the ER chief didn't seem too happy to have her on board. She'd been lucky that her previous chief had been able to pull some strings and get her an interview at one of the few university hospitals that still had an ER handling trauma. Most hospitals, like St. Michael's, had both a trauma unit to handle acute injuries _and_ a separate emergency room for the treatment of medical illness. At PMC, however, the ER docs evaluated and stabilized even the level one traumas, only calling upon the surgeons for consultation or when the patient was ready to go up to the OR. It was as close as Villanelle was going to get to an operating room for a while. _Face it. Maybe forever._ She pushed away that thought as well as the faint nausea that accompanied it. "It was kind of a rush deal."

"Yes, the way you were hired _was_ a bit unusual." Eve studied Villanelle's eyes, searching for some suggestion of evasion or discomfort. The surgeon's gaze was direct and surprisingly calm. The tranquility was not something Eve would have expected of any surgeon, but particularly not of this one, especially not after having witnessed Villanelle's aggressive handling of the trauma alert earlier. _What an interesting mix of contradictions she is. Or else she's a great poker player._

Annoyed to discover that she had lost her focus, Eve spoke more sharply than she intended. "I'm not sure what you were led to believe, but it's not going to be possible for you to see only surgical problems down here. We're—"

"I wasn't led to believe _anything_ except that I had a job." Villanelle tilted her head with the barest flicker of a grin. "Is that still true?"

Despite herself, Eve laughed. "Well, considering that you passed your _practical exam_ this morning with high marks, I'd have to say yes."

"Good, because I've already put down first and last months' rent on an apartment."

Eve caught herself as she was about to ask where Villanelle was living. For some reason, she couldn't seem to keep her mind from wandering from professional into personal places, which was distinctly unusual for her. She was friendly with all of her colleagues, but, for the most part, her time was spent on administrative responsibilities or patient care. She didn't socialize very much with any of her colleagues other than Elena, and she almost never saw her fellow attendings outside of work except at functions. _I'm probably curious because she just appeared out of nowhere. It's not like there's really any great mystery about her. So, I'll just get this little introductory talk out of the way, and we can all get back to routine._

"The Monday morning rush is going to start very soon," Eve began, so let's go over the ground rules before that happens. We try to see patients on a first-come, first-served basis as much as possible. Obviously, if there's an acute case, that takes priority."

Villanelle nodded, watching Eve unconsciously turn the wedding ring on her left hand as she spoke. The ER chief had beautiful hands-narrow, supple, and long-fingered. Those hands appeared very much like the woman herself—graceful and agile and strong. With a start, Villanelle realized that she had missed the last thing that Eve had said. "I'm sorry? What?"

Eve regarded her quizzically. "I said that I don't have a problem with you selecting out the patients with complaints that seem to be surgical in origin, because that just makes sense. But if there's a patient with a critical condition or someone who has been waiting a long time, you'll need to see them even if their complaint is a medical problem."

"I expected to do that," Villanelle said evenly. "I've been boning up on my emergency medicine the last few weeks." She lifted a shoulder and shrugged. "I'm not that far out of medical school that I don't remember how to handle medical problems. I'm a little behind on the latest drug treatments, but I'll catch up."

"I'm sure you will." Eve stood. "Don't be afraid to check with one of us if you're not sure about something-just until you're a little more comfortable with the kinds of conditions you'll be seeing down here. I'm sure it will be very different from what you were used to at St. Michael's."

For the first time, Villanelle averted her gaze, and a faint flush rose up her neck. Until four months ago, she had expected to be the newest trauma attending at St. Michael's right about now, not an ER doc at the bottom of the totem pole. "Yes, I expect it will be."

As they walked back toward the main work area, Eve concluded by saying, "There will be at least four attendings scheduled to work during each twelve-hour shift. I put you on days the first few weeks so you can get your bearings. For the time being, you'll basically be on two days and off one, with some variation to accommodate personal days." _The same shifts I work, at least until I can trust you alone._

"Fine." Since Villanelle had no close friends in the city and had nothing planned, she didn't really care when she worked. She just wanted to be busy, because alone time meant too much time to think.

"Okay then. I'll be around if you have any questions."

"Thanks." Villanelle took a deep breath, walked to the counter, and picked up the first patient chart. Chief complaint: abdominal pain.

_That sounds like something I can handle._

Twenty-five minutes later, Villanelle found Elena recording the vital signs on an elderly woman whose chief complaint was low back pain present for five years. As was so often the case in inner-city hospitals, the emergency room frequently served as a primary care clinic for neighborhood people who either had no health insurance or were without a family doctor.

Elena looked up at Villanelle and smiled. "How's it going?"

"Okay. Thanks. Uh... how do I get a pediatric surgeon?"

Elena patted the elderly woman's arm. "Somebody will be by to see you in just a few minutes, okay?" Then she motioned for Villanelle to follow her back to the nurses' station. Once there, she pointed to a series of lists that were tacked to a corkboard behind the counter. "Here you go-these are the names and beeper numbers for the on-call docs in the various specialties this month. Some change every day, some every week, and some cover for the entire month. What do you have?"

"Acute appendix."

"The nine-year-old with the bellyache?"

"Yep. Peri-umbilical pain localizing to the right lower quadrant, elevated white count, low-grade temp, and guarding on physical exam."

"That was a fast diagnosis."

Villanelle shrugged. "Like I said. Classic."

"Does it bother you, that you won't be the one operating on her?" Elena still couldn't figure out why someone who could do what she had seen Villanelle Astankova do that morning would want to give that up. And her motto had always been "If you want to know something, ask."

Villanelle absently rubbed an annoying itch on the left side of her chest above her shirt pocket, her expression remote as she thought about how much fun it was to do an appendectomy. "Yeah. It does." She blinked and dropped her hand, suddenly self-conscious, and studied the posted lists. "So it's... Baker, right?"

"Yes. I'll page him for you and give you a call when he answers. Or, if you want, I can just read him the vital statistics and tell him what you think."

"Sure, do that. If he has any questions, just come find me. And thanks."

Villanelle was about to reach for the next chart when she turned back and held out her hand. "By the way, I'm Villanelle Astankova."

"Elena Felton."

Villanelle nodded in acknowledgment of the greeting and pulled the next chart from the rack. She winced when she read the presenting problem: headache. She contemplated sliding it back and looking for something a little more exciting, and then she remembered the first-come, first-served rule. _I can probably manage to figure this out._

With a sigh, she tucked the chart under her arm and headed off to cubicle eight.

~

At 6:45 that evening, Eve finished signing off on her last chart and glanced around the emergency room. There were three new patients waiting to be seen, none of whom had a critical problem. Two patients were waiting for beds to become available upstairs and would be admitted as soon as their rooms were ready. Four were in the process of being evaluated with x-rays and laboratory tests, but they would be nearly ready for discharge when the new shift came on duty. All in all, her ship was tidy. Except for the fact that Villanelle was leaning against the wall outside one of the patient cubicles, staring at her PDA device with a frown on her face. With a tired sigh, Eve got up and walked over to her.

"Problem?"

Villanelle looked up, surprised. "No, not really. I can just never remember the dosage of Augmentin in kids."

"Sore throat?"

"Earache."

"Ah." Eve told her the dosage of the antibiotic. "That's one you'll be getting very familiar with very quickly around here."

"I'm sure." Villanelle rubbed her forehead, suddenly realizing that she was beat. She'd been on her feet the entire day, which in the past hadn't been all that unusual. Nevertheless, it was a different kind of work than she was used to doing in the intensely focused operating room, and it had been quite a while since she'd worked a full shift. And even more than that, she wasn't used to feeling just a little bit behind all the time.

"How did it go today?" Eve found herself feeling slightly sorry for the young surgeon. She'd kept an eye on Villanelle throughout the day and noticed that she had worked steadily, barely even stopping to eat. She didn't slack off, and to her credit, she'd also seen her fair share of routine medical complaints. She might be a surgeon, but she wasn't flaunting it or expecting special treatment.

"Fine, I guess. I only had to yell for help a couple of times." Villanelle smiled wryly, remembering a time when _she_ had been the one making all the calls. The one in charge. "I haven't felt quite this inadequate in a long time."

Eve couldn't help but hear the frustration and, surprisingly, the hint of sadness in Villanelle's voice. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask the surgeon why she had chosen to take this job, but it was none of her business. It _would_ have been within her concern to ask for an explanation, had she had the opportunity to interview Villanelle before she'd been hired. But not now. Now it was done. "You're allowed a lunch hour, you know."

"I'm not used to a formal schedule. I'd rather just work." _At least then maybe I'll feel useful. Like maybe the last ten years haven't been for nothing._

"Your call. See you tomorrow."

"Right. Tomorrow."

Villanelle gave the child's mother the prescription for antibiotics along with instructions to follow up with her pediatrician in two days. After filling out the paperwork, she dropped the chart into the Completed bin and headed back to the locker room. She packed up her gear, stowed the bloodied slacks in her backpack, and headed out.

She ran into Eve and Elena as the two women were leaving together.

"Need a ride somewhere?" Elena asked as the three of them converged on the outer doors.

Villanelle couldn't help but notice that Eve looked slightly perturbed by her friend's offer. She shook her head. "No, thanks. I've got my bike."

"Ooh." Elena made an excited sound. "You've got a motorcycle?"

Laughing, Villanelle replied, "No. A road bike."

"A bicycle?" Eve questioned, surprised once again. Thus far, Villanelle Astankova had managed to contradict almost every preconception she'd had about her. She'd even been forced to make allowances for her arrogance.

"I'm only a couple of miles from here on Morris," Villanelle supplied.

"Hey! We're all practically neighbors." Elena beamed. "Eve and I are a couple of houses apart right around the corner from you on Ravenwood Drive."

"That's... nice. Well," Villanelle put her hands in her pockets, aware that Eve Polastri was slowly edging away toward the adjoining parking lot. "Good night, then."

Villanelle watched the two women walk quickly away and then turned in the opposite direction toward the bike rack. Clearly she hadn't been wrong in her impression that morning that the chief of emergency services was less than thrilled to have her. Ordinarily, she didn't care what anyone thought of her—except for her previous chief, Carolyn Martens. She had cared about what Martens thought because she had wanted to be like Martens. _Every_ trauma fellow to pass through St. Michael's wanted to be like Martens. She was a surgeon's surgeon—the best hands, the quickest mind, the ultimate in cool command.

The reasons that Villanelle wanted Eve Polastri to think well of her were a little more complicated than simply desiring professional respect. Sure, she wouldn't mind if the chief of emergency services was impressed with her skills or thought well of her clinical acumen. But Eve wasn't just her chief, she was also a very attractive and intriguing woman. During moments when Eve hadn't been aware of her scrutiny, Villanelle had noticed how Eve's eyes softened when she smiled and the way her lips curved upward when she laughed. Those events seemed rare but worth the wait. She wouldn't mind being the one to make Eve smile that way.

_Yeah, right. Remember your own number one rule. Never ever get involved with a married woman._

Villanelle shouldered her backpack, straddled her bike, and headed off into the gathering night. The last thing she needed at this point was an involvement with anyone, especially her boss, and her very obviously _unavailable_ boss at that.

~

"Jeez, could you have been any ruder?" Elena turned her Volvo wagon onto Hicks Avenue and headed north out of Germantown into Mount Airy. The neighborhood along the way was comprised mostly of large three- and four-story stone homes, many of which dated back over a century. More than a few had been subdivided into apartments over the years, but a fair number of affordable single-family dwellings still remained. The northwestern section of the city had gradually become populated by an eclectic assortment of young professionals, artists, blue-collar workers, and a large percentage of the city's lesbian population.

"What do you mean, rude?" Blushing, Eve realized that she sounded defensive and tried to subdue her tone. "Just because I wasn't falling all over her like some people I know?"

"I most certainly was not falling all over her." Elena harrumphed. "I was simply being polite. And _welcoming_."

"Oh, sure. If that bicycle had been a motorcycle, I think you would've climbed on behind her and ridden off into the sunset."

Elena looked pensive. "I don't think I could have tonight. Robin and the kids should be getting home from soccer practice right about now, and it's my turn to cook dinner."

Eve laughed. "Honestly, why are you so interested in her?"

"Aren't you?" Elena pulled to the curb and parked. "You have to admit that she's really good looking, she seems pretty smart, and she's nice. And there's no good reason that I can think of that she ought to be working in our emergency room. So I'm curious."

"My point exactly. There is no reason for her to be here. No _good_ reason."

Eve grabbed her briefcase and opened the car door. "So I'm reserving judgment."

Elena made an exasperated sound as she climbed out, too. "About what? The good-looking part?"

"All right, I'll give you that much." Eve had to admit even to herself that no one would argue _that_ point. Villanelle Astankova was disturbingly good looking in an intense, make your heart jump kind of way. "As to how smart she is or exactly how well she's going to work out in this position, we'll see."

"Okay, fine." Elena could tell when she'd run into a stone wall. It was the kind of immovable object that could only be altered by chipping away one tiny flake at a time. "You want to round up your clan and come over for dinner?"

"Did you say you were cooking?" Eve asked dubiously.

"Haha. You bring the wine."

"All right." Eve realized that an evening with friends sounded like just what she needed to keep her mind off the disquieting arrival of Villanelle Astankova into her carefully ordered world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably gonna have quicker updates so I can get the story rolling. I hope you're enjoying it so far. The next chapter might be a shock to some, so be prepared!


	3. An Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Sunday.

Villanelle pushed her bike down the alley next to the three-story building and secured it to the drainpipe with a lock. Her apartment comprised one-half of the second floor and had both a front and back entrance. A wooden staircase with deck landings at each level extended from the rear of the house, and she climbed to the second floor, fit her key into the back door, and let herself into her new home. The door opened onto the kitchen, a long narrow room now nearly filled with boxes. Threading her way around the obstacles, she proceeded into the hallway that ran the length of the apartment. A bedroom and bath opened off one side, a small second bedroom that she intended to use as an office adjoined the kitchen on the other, and a large rectangular living room occupied the entire space at the front.

Every room was filled with unopened boxes, scattered pieces of furniture, and a few suitcases. The movers had finished unloading everything late the previous evening, and Villanelle didn't have any energy to open anything other than the trunk containing her sleeping bag, a few pieces of clothing, and bathroom essentials. Her sleeping bag was still spread out in the middle of the living room on top of her mattress, and she had a feeling that she would be sleeping in it again that night. She turned once in a small circle, surveying the strange apartment.

_What am I doing here? How in the hell did I end up like this?_

In retrospect, the chain of events that had changed her life had been set in motion a little over four months before, but the particulars of the proceedings seemed to have morphed into one endless nightmare that defied logic or reason. When she tried to make sense of them, Villanelle found that she could not. She didn't believe in luck or karma or fate. Sometimes bad things just _happened_. But that philosophy gave her very little comfort at the moment.

Wearily, she sat down on her sleeping bag, leaned her back against a pile of boxes, and closed her eyes. She knew she should eat, but strangely, she was not hungry. She knew she should sleep, but felt too restless inside for that. Her phone rested on the floor nearby. Briefly, she considered calling the woman she had dated on and off during the year of her fellowship in New York, but she found that the idea of talking with Anna left her feeling empty. They had gone to the occasional party, taken in a few Broadway shows, and shared a physical relationship that had been satisfying if not earth-shattering. They weren't lovers; in fact, they were little more than casual acquaintances.

Villanelle hadn't confided in Anna as her world had hastily tilted and then simply crumbled, mostly because she wasn't used to discussing her problems with anyone. And especially not with someone she didn't completely trust to understand. _Odd that we've slept together, and I don't know her well enough to confide in her._

She hadn't had much time to think about such things when she'd been working eighteen hours a day as a trauma fellow. Now that she found herself in a professional position to which she had never aspired, alone in a life she had never anticipated, she had far too much time to think. Groaning softly, she rubbed her face, stared at the ceiling, and tried to put the past aside. But the future was almost as difficult to contemplate, particularly considering her uncertain welcome in the ER that morning.

Fleetingly, she wondered if Eve and Elena were lovers. They had that easy energy between them, and she'd caught Elena eyeing her speculatively a few times during the day. The nurse hadn't exactly been cruising her, but Villanelle had felt the interest. Perhaps _she_ was the person who had given Eve that wedding ring.

And just as quickly, Villanelle found herself faced with yet another thought she did not want to contemplate. Surrendering to exhaustion as much emotional as physical, she stretched out on the sleeping bag and wearily closed her eyes again.

~

"Eve," a soft, deep voice murmured.

Instantly awake, Eve jolted upright on the couch and stared into the dark but warm eyes mere inches from hers. "Oh my God, did I fall asleep?"

Robin Henderson, a solidly built woman with a killer smile, grinned faintly. "About halfway through _Wheel of Fortune_."

"Where's Viv?" Eve rubbed her face, trying to clear the mists of vague dreams from her consciousness. She couldn't clearly recall what she had been dreaming, but she was left with a feeling of uneasiness and... peril? _No, that can't be right. What in my life could possibly be dangerous?_ For no reason that she could imagine, Villanelle's face flashed through her mind. _That's ridiculous. You must be tired._

"She's in the den. There's some kind of serious _Lord of the Rings_ video game battle going on. Want some dinner?"

"Yes, please," Eve replied gratefully, standing and stretching. "Did the kids eat?"

"All done. We fed them first and then banished them so that we could have some adult time." Robin led the way into the dining room, where Elena was pouring an enormous pot of spaghetti sauce over enough pasta to feed an entire regiment.

"Looks great." Eve slid into the seat that she always occupied at Robin and Elena's.

Elena cocked her head and studied the serving bowl filled to the brim with steaming vegetables, sauce, and pasta. "You're going to have to take some of this home. There's only so much in the way of leftovers we can handle. I wish you had been able to talk Phyllis into staying for dinner."

"You know that Monday's her poker night," Eve replied, referring to her mother-in-law's love of gambling. "Nothing in the world would keep her from that."

Robin heaped a generous portion onto her plate and passed the platter to Eve. "Elena tells me that you've got a new doc at work."

Eve paused with the serving fork in the air and cast a wary glance in Elena's direction. She knew without a doubt that Robin's remark was completely harmless, but she also knew that she was naïve enough to be set up by her less than scrupulous lover. And Elena, who refused to give up her self-appointed duty as Eve's social secretary, looked suspiciously innocent as she cut chunks of garlic bread off a long loaf.

"That's right." Eve intentionally kept her voice casual.

"A surgeon, huh?"

"That's right."

Elena interjected brightly, "A really talented, good-looking one."

"Is she gay?"

"If she's not, then neither am I," Elena stated emphatically.

"That's good, then, right?" Robin looked questioningly from one woman to the other.

"Which part?" Eve grumbled. _I know which part Elena thinks is good. If I didn't also know that she loves me and thinks she's helping, I'd be seriously pissed._

"Uh..." Robin hesitated, sensing a faint chill in the air. "Did I put my foot in something?"

Shaking her head, Eve couldn't help but smile. Robin, a computer software consultant who worked from home and cared for the couple's six- and nine-year-olds, was one of the sweetest people she'd ever met. Eve could never remember being angry with her. "No, but your spouse just can't keep from putting her nose in everything."

"Oh." Robin chuckled, tossed her lover a fond look, and went back to her dinner. "So what else is new?"

"Haha," Elena retorted. But she leaned close and kissed Robin's ear, murmuring softly.

"Jeez, give it a rest, will you?" Eve complained, but her tone was playful. She loved the way they cared for one another, and rather than making her sad over what she didn't have, their happiness made her feel less alone.

"So are you gonna invite her to the barbecue next week?" Robin asked.

"No," Eve said immediately.

"Sure," Elena overrode her.

"Elena..." Eve's tone was threatening.

"Oh, come on! She's a new member of the department, and she's new to the city. It's only polite."

Eve sighed, knowing Elena was right. She didn't even know why she felt uncomfortable with the idea. Villanelle Astankova had done absolutely nothing wrong, and she seemed personable enough. It wasn't Villanelle's fault that she'd been hired without Eve's input. It wasn't her fault that she was a surgeon, and that Eve had no great love for her generally self-centered, egotistical, and often insensitive medical counterparts. It _certainly_ wasn't Villanelle's fault that she had the deepest green of any woman Eve had ever seen, or that for some reason, Eve couldn't seem to stop seeing the way Villanelle's hands moved with such surety and grace.

"All right. Fine."

Elena smiled and passed the spaghetti.

~

"Have you seen Dr. Astankova?" Eve asked one of the registered nurses who worked in the ER. "I've got a guy in six with a jawbone fracture I want her to look at."

"I think she's in ten doing a tendon repair."

Eve raised an eyebrow. "Down here?"

Generally, any hand injury more serious than a simple laceration or straightforward fracture was referred to orthopedics or plastic surgery for treatment in the operating room. But Eve had noticed that since Villanelle had started working in the ER, more of those problems were being handled on-site. It was only Villanelle's second week in the ER, and already the other physicians were triaging anything that looked surgical to her. She was rapidly becoming one of the busiest physicians in the emergency room.

The nurse shrugged. "Anything that gets them taken care of and off our board works for me. You know how long it takes for ortho or plastics to get down here for a consult."

Eve couldn't argue. She'd much prefer that patients be evaluated, treated, and discharged rather than have them waiting for hours for a specialist to evaluate them. The long delays clogged up her emergency room and irritated the patients. Still, at this rate, Villanelle was in danger of being seriously overworked. Already, Eve had noticed that the new attending was arriving early and leaving late.

"Thanks. Room ten, did you say?"

"Last I saw."

Eve parted the curtain slowly and peeked inside. Villanelle and one of the emergency room residents were seated on either side of a narrow arm board. A young male laid on a stretcher with his arm extended on the support, palm up. A laceration extended across the width of his forearm, approximately three inches above the wrist crease. From where she was standing, Eve could see exposed muscle bellies, several pencil-sized white bands of severed tendon ends, and a blood clot in the region of the radial artery just above the thumb. "Can you talk?"

Villanelle glanced up from the wound and smiled in greeting. "Sure. Come on in."

With an inquiring expression, Eve tilted her chin in the direction of the patient, who appeared to be unresponsive.

"Anesthesia by ethanol," Villanelle explained. The patient was intoxicated and, after the resident had injected the lidocaine to numb the wound, he had promptly gone to sleep.

"Nerve injury?" Eve leaned over the seated resident's shoulder for a better look into the depths of the wound. Villanelle held the edges open with two small stainless steel right-angle retractors.

"Got the sensory branch of the radial nerve, but missed the median. Lucky for him—hey, Zebrowski, don't grab the end of the tendon with your forceps. You'll fray it, and then it won't hold your sutures."

"Sorry," the resident mumbled, his hands shaking as he struggled to place the fine blue Prolene sutures through the ends of the lacerated tendons.

"Get it right down the center of the tendon."

"Okay?" Zebrowski asked tentatively as he edged the needle into the tissue.

"That's better," Villanelle commented as she watched him place his first stitch. "Now tag it with the hemostat and put in another one just like it." She looked up to find Eve watching her with a serious expression in her liquid brown eyes. Villanelle quirked a brow.

"What?"

"Nothing." What Eve had been thinking was that Villanelle was not only a fine surgeon but also a good teacher. She appeared on the surface to be precisely as she had been advertised, an excellent addition to the ER. Except that Eve couldn't make sense of the picture. Why should someone with Villanelle's skills be working there? All that she could imagine was that there had been some breach in ethics that had cost Villanelle her surgical career. That thought bothered her more than a little because it was difficult not to like the dynamic surgeon.

Villanelle divided her attention between watching the resident complete the tendon repair and trying to figure out what she had just seen in Eve's eyes. Curiosity, confusion, and, oddly, compassion. The mix of emotions was powerful and compelling. She caught her breath, feeling her heart trip unexpectedly. In the next instant, it was steady again, and she ignored the slight flutter of uneasiness. "Do you need me?"

"When you get a chance, I want you to take a look at some films on a twenty-year-old who took a header off his bicycle. I think he's got a fracture of the mandibular body, but I'm not sure. The x-ray isn't diagnostic and his exam is unclear."

"Okay. As soon as we get a cast on Mr. Garcia, I'll be right there."

Eve noticed that Villanelle had dark circles under her eyes, and for the first time, she realized that the young surgeon looked exhausted. She knew that Villanelle had been working hard—they all worked pretty much nonstop for twelve to fourteen hours—but it hardly seemed likely that the demands of the ER would be that much different than what Villanelle had experienced as a surgeon. Once again sensing something amiss, Eve felt a surge of concern. "Take your time."

Ten minutes later, Villanelle leaned with a palm against the wall and studied the film, which had been hung on the lightbox, of the young man with the possible jaw fracture.

"What do you think?" Eve asked as she walked up beside her.

"He doesn't seem to be very tender on physical exam, and his bite looks okay. His teeth come together perfectly," Villanelle observed.

"I know. That's what bothers me. The mechanism of injury is right for a jaw fracture, but his physical findings are unimpressive, to say the least. But then, the x-ray is suggestive." Eve leaned forward as well, her shoulder brushing Villanelle's as she stared at the x-ray. She reached out to trace a faint line between two of the lower teeth. "Looks like a fracture right there. Maybe it's an old inj—"

"Eve, I'm sorry to interrupt," Elena said with an uncharacteristic hint of urgency in her voice. "Robin just called from the car. It doesn't sound serious, but there's been an accident."

"Oh my God." Eve's face lost all its color, and for an instant, she swayed. The memories came flooding back. _There's been an accident. We're sorry to have to tell you..._

Villanelle felt Eve tremble, saw the panic in her eyes, and without thinking, rested her hand against Eve's back, supporting her gently. She made small circles with her fingertips, unconsciously hoping to soothe her. She wasn't entirely certain what was happening, but Eve's terror was clear. And seeing her upset made Villanelle ache.

"Eve," Elena said sharply, placing both hands on her friend's shoulders. "She's _okay_. Robin says she's okay. They'll be here in just a minute."

Without even realizing it, Eve leaned into the warmth of Villanelle's body, needing something solid to anchor her while she fought the memories and struggled to stay in the present. Heart pounding, her voice tight with fear, she asked, "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Something about one ball and two heads."

"Is she conscious? Is she talking?" Eve tried to think clearly, but she knew her words were rushing together as fear threatened to overwhelm her. _There's been an accident..._

"I don't have the details. I just got a thirty-second phone call." Elena shook her head in frustration. "But the most important thing is that Robin said it—"

Eve jerked away from Elena's grasp and ran toward the emergency room entrance. Villanelle looked after her and saw a muscular woman in a bloodstained T-shirt and gym shorts carrying a softly crying dark-haired child in her arms. The child's face and neck were streaked with blood, and a white gauze pad was taped over part of her forehead and left eye.

"Who is that?" Villanelle asked, walking rapidly to keep up with Elena.

"Eve's daughter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooof! Usually I prefer Villaneve fanfics without children but I think it’s necessary for this story. Don’t worry the children won’t take away from their story! Hope you’re still enjoying!


	4. Get a Grip

The instant Eve saw the small head turn toward her and the tremulous smile of recognition on her daughter's face, her panic began to ebb. _She's awake and alert, no head injury. Oh, thank God._ Despite the fact that her stomach still churned with anxiety laced with the aftermath of old terrors, she smiled and kept her voice level and steady as she reached for her child. "Hi, sweetie. Come here. Aunt Robin probably needs a rest."

"I can walk," the child said fretfully, but she extended her arms to Eve nonetheless.

"I know you can, but I want to give you a hug first."

Carefully, Robin passed the child to Eve, who hitched her daughter onto her hip as if she were two instead of nearly eight. Even as she did so, she searched the one eye she could see for any signs of altered consciousness. "I guess you bumped your head, huh?"

" _Jeannie_ bumped it," Vivian grumbled with a mixture of residual tears and emerging distress.

Eve glanced at Robin in concern. "Is Jeannie okay?"

"She's got a bump on her forehead, but no other damage." She reached out and stroked Vivian's hair and looked over at Elena, who stood nearby. "I've got to run. The kids are out front in the car, and the security guard is baby-sitting.

Elena gave Robin a quick hug and kiss. "Go ahead, honey. I'll call you later."

As Eve walked back to the nearest open examining room, she explained to Vivian, "We're going to have to take that bandage off and see what's underneath, okay?"

"Will it hurt?"

"Does it hurt now?"

Vivian seemed to give this some consideration. "A little. It feels kinda like my knee did when I fell off my skateboard."

"Well, it might hurt a tiny bit more for a few minutes while we put some medicine on it to clean it up. But not a lot."

"Will _you_ do it?"

Eve hesitated. She still felt the effects of the swift surge of panic accompanied by the unexpected resurrection of past fears, and she wasn't certain how steady her hands would be. Before she could answer, Elena spoke up.

"You know what, Viv? I think Mom ought to hold your hand while one of the _other_ doctors fixes you up. What do you say?"

"Who?"

Eve looked past Elena to Villanelle walking quietly along beside them, the memory of the reassuring hand against her back comforting still. Deep green eyes, kind with compassion, met hers. Without a second thought, Eve extended her free hand and Villanelle took it, stepping closer. "This is Villanelle, Viv. She's a surgeon, and she'll take really good care of you, okay?"

"Okay."

Elena held the curtain to exam room one open, and Eve gently deposited her daughter on the stretcher. Then she pulled a stool close and sat down as Villanelle walked to the other side.

"I'm going to take this big Band-Aid off your forehead," Villanelle explained. "There's some tape that will pull a little bit when I do. You ready?"

Vivian held her mother's hand and nodded.

"So," Villanelle said conversationally, surveying the four-centimeter laceration just above the child's eyebrow, "baseball, basketball, or soccer?"

"Soccer," Vivian proclaimed as if anyone should know the answer.

"Great choice." Villanelle glanced at Eve, whose eyes were fixed on the wound on her daughter's forehead. She waited for Eve to look up at her, and then she smiled reassuringly. Eve rewarded her with a swift, if slightly shaky, smile in return. "I'm going to shine a light in your eyes. It'll be really bright."

Villanelle pulled a small penlight from her chest pocket and checked Vivian's pupils, both of which were equal and briskly reactive to the light stimulus. Then she held her index finger up about twelve inches from Vivian's face. "I'm going to move my finger around, and I want you to watch it. Okay?"

"Why?"

"So I can be sure that your bump on the head isn't going to make it hard for you to see the ball during the next game.

Intently, Vivian nodded and followed Villanelle's moving hand.

"Does your neck hurt anywhere at all?"

"No."

"I'm going to poke around a bit, and you tell me if it's sore." As she spoke, Villanelle slipped her fingers behind Vivian's head and examined each of her cervical vertebrae, one after the other. She elicited no tenderness. Then she felt the bones around her eyes, cheeks, nose, and jaws. All fine. Looking in Eve's direction, she murmured, "I don't see any need for x-rays."

"All right." Eve's throat was dry, and her voice came out husky. With each passing moment, she felt better and, unexpectedly, found herself soothed by Villanelle's calm voice and gentle compassion.

"Okay, Viv, here's the deal." Villanelle leaned over so that the child could see her face. "You've got a cut on your forehead, and it's going to need some stitches. Do you know what stitches are?"

"They're little tiny threads to help the cut get better faster." Vivian looked in her mother's direction uncertainly. "Do I have to?" For the first time since she had arrived, the child looked as if she might cry.

"That's what we use when Band-Aids aren't strong enough, honey." Eve smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah, but they don't work on _마법의_ cuts, so maybe they won't work on me either." The child's tone was hesitant.

Villanelle took note of Vivian's language switch. "Mabeob?"

"It's magic in Korean.... like Mr. Weasley," Eve stated, as if that would explain things.

"Huh?"

"In Harry Potter!" Vivian clarified. "Ron's father is a wizard and he needed stitches, but Muggle medicine doesn't work on wizards."

"Ah. I see." Villanelle nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. I'm sure they'll work on you though—unless you're a wizard, too?"

"I don't think so." Vivian shook her head seriously. "Are you going to put them in?"

"Yep. But first, I'm going to make it so you don't feel it when I do." As she spoke, Villanelle pulled on gloves and Elena opened an instrument tray.

Turning her back slightly so that the child would not see her draw up the lidocaine into the syringe from the bottle that Elena held out to her, she said, "Soccer, huh? So what position do you play?"

"Wing."

"Midfielder? You must be a really good passer."

"Most of the time." Stitches forgotten, Vivian asked excitedly, "Do you play soccer?"

"I used to when I was in college." Villanelle gently wiped Betadine around the edges of the laceration.

"What position did _you_ play?"

"Offense."

"Were you good?"

Villanelle laughed and glanced at Eve, who merely shook her head and grinned.

"Uh-well, not bad."

Villanelle stepped slightly out of Vivian's line of vision and leaned down with the syringe. "I'm going to put in some medicine now that will feel a little bit like a big mosquito bite. You ready?"

"Okay."

Softly stroking her daughter's arm, Eve watched as Villanelle slowly and carefully injected the local anesthetic. The secret, she knew, to minimizing the pain of the injection was to do it extraordinarily slowly, but most surgeons lacked the patience. Villanelle, however, couldn't have been gentler. Her hands were steady and sure, and Eve realized as she watched her child lying quietly during the procedure how truly gifted Villanelle was. _Who are you, really, Villanelle Astankova?_

When the injection was completed, Villanelle glanced at Eve. She'd seen parents, even seasoned medical people, faint when their children were injured. Parents could handle anything, apparently, except their own child's suffering. Gently, she asked, "You okay?"

This time Eve's smile was sure and strong. "Fine. You're very good."

Villanelle blushed, her heart racing. "Viv's the star."

In ten minutes, the wound was cleaned, irrigated, and sutured. Throughout the process, Vivian and Villanelle kept up a running conversation regarding the virtues of various soccer positions and strategies as if nothing were happening. By the time Villanelle had applied Steri-Strips in lieu of a bandage, the girl seemed to have forgotten completely about her injury.

"So, can you come to one of my games?" Vivian asked eagerly as she sat up, her eyes fixed attentively on Villanelle's face.

For the second time, Eve's daughter caught Villanelle off guard, and she found herself at a loss for words. Helplessly, she looked at Eve. "Uh..."

"Villanelle just moved here, honey," Eve said gently. "She's awfully busy right now."

"Maybe someday, though, right?"

"Maybe," Villanelle said awkwardly.

"Thanks," Eve said softly as she lifted Vivian down from the stretcher.

Villanelle smiled into Eve's eyes, warmed by the tenderness in her voice. "Sure."

"I'm going to need to take off early today so I can get her home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding, Villanelle watched the mother and daughter disappear with Elena, leaving her in the empty room with the discarded dressings and used instruments. She suddenly felt as abandoned as the space around her. That was often the case after the intense high of dealing with an emergency, but this time she missed more than the adrenaline rush. She missed the heat of Eve's gaze upon her face.

She was checking the tray to be sure that all the needles had been deposited in the sharps bin for disposal when Elena returned.

"Nice job, Doc."

"Great kid," Villanelle observed. "How old is she? Eight?"

Elena had to stop and think, putting her two kids and Vivian in order. "Almost."

"She’s a sweetheart. Eve’s got a lovely kid."

"She does," Elena agreed, intrigued by Villanelle's pensive expression.

Villanelle cleared her throat. "Uh, what does Eve's husband do?"

"Eve doesn't have a husband." Elena delivered the statement calmly as she wrapped up the instruments, sneaking a quick peek in Villanelle's direction to judge its effect. She smiled when she saw the quick look of pleasure followed by dismay cross the surgeon's face. _Uh-huh, yes, she's interested._

"Oh." Villanelle leaned her shoulder against the door frame, considering the possibilities. _Separated? That would explain the wedding ring still. Divorced? No, she wouldn't still be wearing his ring, would she? Gay? Maybe, because Elena sure is, considering the hug and kiss she gave the woman in the ER earlier._ Villanelle gave herself a mental shake. Regardless of the answer, it didn't concern her, because that ring spelled unavailable. "I'd better get back out there. Are the charts piling up?"

"The usual. Listen, we're having a barbecue at my place on Saturday afternoon. Most of the ER staff and some people from the neighborhood will be there. One o'clock."

Villanelle's immediate reaction was to make an excuse to not go. She didn't particularly like social situations in which she didn't know anyone. On the other hand, Eve would be there. _Yeah, like that makes any difference._ To her surprise, she found herself saying, "Sure. Thanks. Can I bring something?"

"How about wine? We never think to buy any."

"No problem."

"Excellent. It'll be fun."

"Thanks again."

Elena stared after Villanelle as she disappeared through the curtain, thinking of the way Eve had looked at Villanelle as she had taken care of Vivian. Appreciatively, which was understandable. But there had been more than gratitude in Eve's face; there had been something that she hadn't seen in her friend's face in years. Something that looked a lot like attraction. That brought up the image of Villanelle's expression as she had asked about Villanelle's husband. Curious and hopeful. _Oh yes, plenty of interest all the way around._

_~_

At a little before 7:00 p.m., Villanelle looked up from the nurses' station where she was completing the follow-up instructions for a seventeen-year-old with a badly sprained right ankle to see Eve, in blue jeans and a faded blue scoop-neck t-shirt, coming down the hall. Her hair beautifully framed her face and lightly bounced as she walked. For an instant, Villanelle allowed herself to simply enjoy the sight of her. Then she realized that Eve was regarding her quizzically and that she had been staring at the emergency room chief, very possibly with her mouth hanging open.

"Everything okay?" Villanelle asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but feeling her heart race.

Eve nodded, aware of Villanelle's gaze and, despite her misgivings, enjoying it. "I left in such a hurry earlier, I forgot to finish some paperwork that's already late."

"How's our patient?

"At the moment, she's settled in front of the television with an enormous ice pack on her eye and her grandmother fussing over her." Eve smiled softly. "She's fine. She's actually very tough, and she's already asking me if she's going to be able to go to soccer practice tomorrow afternoon."

"Good." Villanelle sat on one of the rolling stools a foot away from Eve, her face at about the level of the other woman's breasts. She tried very hard to cast her gaze elsewhere, but nothing could prevent her from sensing the heat of Eve's body so near. She could smell her sweet fragrance, a lush earthy scent. Never in her memory could she recall being so affected by the mere presence of a woman.

Eve leaned her hip against the counter. "I want to thank you for how good you were with her earlier."

"You're welcome, but thanks are not necessary. I'm glad it wasn't too bad for her."

"It's her first big sports injury." Eve grinned ruefully. "Since she's quite the up-and-coming athlete, I'm sure there will be more."

"Well, hopefully you won't require my services too often."

"No," Eve replied softly. "Hopefully not.

Villanelle was surprised when Eve reached out and lightly touched her shoulder, but before she could respond, Eve turned and walked away. Villanelle was left staring after her, her skin tingling beneath the cotton of her scrub shirt. Forcefully, she reminded herself that the gesture had been innocent and that the events of the day had made it very clear that Eve was not available for casual flirtations. _Not only married, but married with children. Get a grip._

And casual flirtations were the only thing that interested Villanelle currently. Her life was much too unsettled to contemplate anything else, even had she desired it. Which she didn't.

She put her mind to the task of completing the paperwork on her remaining patients, and forty-five minutes later, she stepped out through the emergency room doors into a vicious summer storm. The sky was gray-black with rolling thunderclouds, lightning slashed sporadically, striking fiery bolts into the very treetops nearby, and a fierce wind whipped icy drops of rain into her face. Villanelle dug her jacket out of her backpack, shrugged it on, and pulled the collar high around her neck in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the rain from running down her back while she unlocked her bicycle.

"You can't ride in this storm!" Eve called from nearby.

Turning her head, Villanelle blinked at the rivulets of water streaming into her eyes. She had to shout to be heard above the wind and rain. "It's not far! I'll be fine.

"That's insane!" Eve grabbed Villanelle's arm and tugged. "Come on, we'll put your bike in my car, and I'll drive you home."

Villanelle saw no point in arguing while they both got drenched to the skin. She merely grabbed her bike and followed as Eve ran to the parking lot opposite the emergency room entrance. Before they had even reached the Subaru station wagon, Eve had keyed the remote to unlock the doors. After Villanelle hefted the bike into the back, they both piled into the front seats in a breathless rush.

"God, that's brutal," Eve gasped. Soaked to the skin and freezing, she started the car and prayed that the heater would warm up quickly. She glanced at Villanelle, who was running her hands through her sopping hair.

"Has it occurred to you that riding a bicycle in this is inviting lightning to strike you down?"

"One in a million chance." Villanelle grinned.

"Well, I'd prefer not to have to defibrillate you, all the same." To Eve's surprise, Villanelle actually paled. It was the first time Eve had ever seen Villanelle appear even slightly off-balance, and—even more than that—there was a fleeting shadow of pain in her expression. Without thinking, she rested her hand on Villanelle's thigh, feeling the muscles beneath her fingers tighten in response. "You okay?"

Villanelle glanced down, unable to understand what Eve's hand was doing on her leg. The graceful fingers curling gently over the arch of her mid-thigh looked completely natural there. She had to resist the urge to put her own fingers over Eve's. The touch was electric, and her stomach clenched with the swift rush of arousal. She sat very still as she struggled to answer.

"Yes." Villanelle's voice was low and husky. "Fine."

Beneath her fingertips, Eve was aware of Villanelle trembling faintly. As casually as she could, she withdrew her hand.

"We're both soaked. We'd better get going."

"Yes."

Even with traffic crawling because of the poor visibility and occasional tree branch blowing into the road, it took less than fifteen minutes to reach their neighborhood.

"My house is just up the block," Eve remarked, the first words either of them had spoken since leaving the hospital. "Where are you?"

"Just around the corner there on Morris. I can walk—"

"Of course not," Eve said emphatically. "I'll just circle the block and drop you off. It's no problem."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Two minutes later, Eve pulled to the curb in front of the house that Villanelle indicated. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then.

"Will do." Villanelle pushed the door open, stepped out into the downpour, and looked back into the car. "Thanks again, Eve."

Eve just nodded, waited while Villanelle pulled her bike from the back, and continued to watch as Villanelle made a run for the front porch. For just an instant, she had contemplated inviting Villanelle home with her for dinner. She had no idea why, because it was completely out of character for her to be spontaneous in any kind of social situation. All she knew was that she hadn't wanted to say good night to Villanelle. And that thought was enough to spur her into action. With a quick glance into her mirrors, she pulled away from the curb and headed toward the comfortable security of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the nice and encouraging comments, I love reading them!


	5. Night Stroll

Eve parked in the driveway of her house and entered through the back door into the kitchen. Her mother-in-law, Phyllis Murphy, was doing dishes in the sink that faced a window overlooking the fenced backyard. Behind the fence was where Phyllis lived.

At the sound of Eve's arrival, Phyllis turned to survey her with a mild frown on her smooth, heart-shaped face. Although close to sixty, Phyllis could easily be taken for fifteen years younger, with her still-shapely form and her wavy chestnut hair that showed not a trace of gray. Her blue eyes were piercing and bright, and at the moment, sparkling with fond exasperation. "Well, you're a fine spectacle. You're soaking wet. Get out of your shoes right there, and then go directly upstairs and take a warm shower.

Wordlessly, Eve kicked off her shoes. She'd known the woman since she'd been a teenager, and Phyllis was as close to a mother as Eve's own. But now that her parents had retired to the Southwest to escape the cold winters, she saw them only on major holidays.

"Where's the munchkin?"

"In the living room. Did you eat?"

"Not yet." Eve pulled a hand towel from a rack above the counter by the sink and gave her head a brisk rubdown, soaking up most of the water from her hair. "I'll fix something—"

"I put a plate for you in the oven. As soon as you've changed, and showered, come down and have your dinner."

Eve knew better than to argue. As she passed the older woman, she gave her a fond hug. "Is she okay?"

"Seems to be. Most of the time she forgets about it, and then when she remembers, I think she's rather proud of herself.

"Proud of herself?" Eve raised an eyebrow.

"I think she's looking forward to showing her stitches to all of her friends tomorrow.

Eve laughed. "Sounds like she's going to survive, then. I'll be back in a minute, then you can go home if you want."

"I'm in no hurry," Phyllis replied as she began loading the dishwasher.

On the way down the hall to the main staircase at the opposite end, Eve peeked into the living room with its brick fireplace, walnut hardwood floors, and bay windows. Her dark, wavy-haired daughter sat curled up on the sofa, the television tuned to a nature program, and a furry head rested in her lap. At Eve's approach, the shapeless black mass metamorphosed into a tail-wagging lab.

"Hi, sweetheart." Eve leaned down to kiss the top of Vivian's head and simultaneously scratched behind the dog's ears. "Hi, Atticus."

"Hi, _엄마_." Vivian smiled at her mother and then turned her attention back to a caravan of wildebeest trekking across the African savanna.

Eve settled a hip on the arm of the sofa and rested her hand on the top of her daughter's hair, stroking it softly. "How does your head feel?"

"It hurts a little, but most of the time it's okay."

"Good." Eve tipped Vivian's chin up and studied her face. "Hmm. You have a shiner."

"What's that?"

"A black-and-blue mark, like when you bang your knee—"

"Or get bumped in the game."

"Yep. Except this time it's around your eye."

"Why's it called a shiner?"

Eve considered that. "Beats me."

"It's cool though, huh?"

"Very. I'm going to change my clothes, and then it's time for you to go to bed." Eve leaned down and kissed her again. "Come upstairs when I call you, okay?"

"Uh-huh. Can you read me the part about Muggle medicine again?"

"You don't want to do the reading out loud tonight?"

Vivian shook her head. "Will you?"

"You bet."

Five minutes later, Eve stepped into the steaming shower, leaned against the slick tiles with a weary sigh, and closed her eyes. The warm water felt wonderful after the chill of the cold rain and her damp clothes. She was emotionally exhausted from the stress and brief panic surrounding Vivian's injury. As tired as she was, however, she was aware of an unexpected undercurrent of exhilaration, a sense of anticipation, although she had absolutely no idea of what. Or why. _Odd_ , she mused. _There's nothing new going on in my life that I can think of._

Out of nowhere, the image of Villanelle, her green eyes intense, and her expression kind, bending over Vivian in the ER that afternoon flashed through Eve's mind. In the next instant, she felt the taut muscles of her lean thigh under her hand and saw again Villanelle shake the rainwater from her hair. _She looked so wild, so... sexy, just then._ A shiver passed down Eve's spine and a stirring in her stomach, so long forgotten that she barely recognized it, caused her to catch her breath in surprise.

_Oh no, I must really be tired. It's just that she was so wonderful with Viv. That's all it is. Gratitude._

Ignoring the faint pulse of excitement that accompanied the unbidden memory, Eve quickly finished her shower, pulled on sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt emblazoned with the PMC logo, and called for Vivian to come to bed. Her daughter was apparently more tired out by the afternoon's events than Eve had realized because she had barely begun reading when Vivian fell asleep. Carefully, Eve closed the book, turned off the bedside light, and crept quietly from the room.

Downstairs, she found Phyllis at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and Atticus beneath her feet, watching her with a hopeful expression.

"You're not feeding him from the table, are you?" Eve helped herself to a cup of coffee and sat down opposite her mother-in-law at the rectangular oak table.

"He only gets kimchi, because he likes to eat off the chopsticks."

Eve nodded as if that made perfect sense. "Thanks for leaving school early so I could go back to the hospital." Phyllis was an administrator at Oakcrest Mennies School, where Robin and Elena's two children, Jude and Ellie, and Vivian were students. Usually, Robin picked all three children up when their after-school activities were over and kept them at her house until Phyllis came by for Vivian at the end of her workday. Since Robin was one of the soccer coaches and all three children played, it made that simple. During the summer, all the kids were at day camp, so the same arrangement worked well.

In the evening, Phyllis usually made dinner at Eve's. When an emergency came up that kept Eve in the ER longer than usual, or when she was on night duty, Phyllis stayed with Vivian or took her granddaughter to her house, where Vivian had her own room as well.

"No need for thanks," Phyllis said quietly. "I'm just grateful she's got a hard head."

Eve imagined that Phyllis had been as shaken as she herself had been initially, even though when she had called the older woman at work to tell her about Vivian's injury, her first words had been that it was only a _minor_ accidentand that Vivian was fine. Nevertheless, she knew that neither of them would ever be able to hear the word _accident_ without an involuntary surge of dread. Eve slid her fingers over Phyllis's hand and squeezed.

"She's going to be just fine.

"I know." Phyllis smiled. "Actually, she couldn't stop talking about it. Seems like she made a friend at the hospital."

Eve looked inquisitively at her mother-in-law.

"Someone named Villanelle?"

"Ah," Eve sighed, "that would be the new ER attending, Villanelle Astankova. She's the one who put in the sutures."

"Sounds like she's a cross between a savior and a soccer star."

"Hardly. But she was great with Vivian."

Phyllis heard the note of reservation in Eve's voice. "You don't like her?"

"No," Eve said quickly, blushing. "No, it's not that. It's... complicated."

"Complicated how?

"I don't know what it is, really." Eve ran a hand distractedly through her hair, frowning at her own jumbled thoughts. It was hard to recall just what exactly about Villanelle bothered her, especially when she remembered sitting with her in the car while the rain beat down around them, enclosing them in a thundering gray cocoon, and seeing that sliver of pain flash across Villanelle's expressive face. "She was hired without my input, so that annoyed me at first. Her qualifications don't really fit the job description, so that makes me suspicious of a problem in her background."

"Don't fit how?"

"She's not trained in emergency medicine; she's trained in surgery. There's no reason she should want this position."

"Is she doing a good job?" Phyllis continued her gentle probing because she and Eve often talked over Eve's frustrations and triumphs at work. More than that, she sensed that her daughter-in-law was troubled.

"Yes. Fine. Considering her training wasn't in emergency medicine, better than I had hoped at this point." Eve sipped her coffee, finally feeling warm. "She works hard, never complains, and is reasonably good-natured about what has to be a difficult adjustment for her."

"Sounds like she's a great new addition to your staff, then."

"I suppose you're right." Eve aimlessly turned her coffee mug on the tabletop, staring at the swirling liquid. "I just can't help feeling that there's something she's hiding."

"We all have things we'd rather not talk about, Eve," Phyllis reminded her gently. "Those things aren't necessarily bad, only painful sometimes."

Eve raised her eyes to Phyllis, and, as was so often the case, they shared a moment of mutual sadness and understanding.

~

Villanelle blinked the sweat from her eyes, and despite the ominous shaking in her arms, pushed the barbell straight up in the air one more time and slowly lowered it until it almost touched her chest. She held it to the count of two, then laboriously raised it and levered it back onto the cleats. With a gasp of relief, she closed her eyes and let her arms hang down by her sides as she waited for her breathing to return to normal. She hadn't had a full workout in months, and even though she had been advised to start slowly, she'd been pushing herself hard for the last hour. Now her entire body was so tired, she wasn't certain she could sit up. Absently, she reached up with her right hand and rubbed the annoying itch above her left breast.

"I wasn't certain you were going to make that last one," a soft voice with a sensuous drawl said from beside her.

Villanelle turned her head, opened her eyes, and looked into the hazel eyes inches from her own. Those striking eyes, shadowed by long lashes, were set in a heart-shaped face, framed by brown hair. Villanelle blinked. "Hello?

The wide, full mouth stretched into a lazy smile. "Hello yourself. I'm Nadia."

"Villanelle."

Nadia raised an eyebrow. "I can hear a hint of your accent. Russian?" she said, her accent as well coming through.

Villanelle smiled. "Yes. Born and raised."

"Me too." Nadia, who crouched beside Villanelle, wore a black sports bra and spandex workout shorts that left her toned midriff bare. She rested her fingertips lightly on Villanelle's left upper arm. "I know this sounds like a line, but are you new in town?"

"I've been here a few weeks." Villanelle laughed and pushed herself upright on the workout bench, then swung around until she faced the kneeling woman. "First time _here_ , though."

"I'm one of the personal trainers. I was going to ask you if you needed any help, but I can see that you don't." As she spoke, Nadia's eyes drifted slowly down Villanelle's body. Villanelle wore gray compression shorts and a t-shirt that had been cut off above the waist and at the shoulders. Her skin shone lightly with perspiration. Nadia's gaze was openly appreciative, and it didn't escape Villanelle's notice either that Nadia's hand now rested ever so gently against her knee. Unexpectedly, Villanelle felt her heart race.

Nadia gave a startled laugh and pulled her hand back. "God, I believe I felt sparks!"

Villanelle blushed, quickly suppressing a gasp. "I think that's what you call static electricity."

"Really," Nadia said disbelievingly, tilting her head and giving Villanelle another lazy smile. "Whatever you call it, it was nice."

Abruptly, Villanelle stood, anticipating the dizziness and waiting for it to pass. "I've got to run. It was nice meeting you, Nadia.

Nadia rose to her feet, momentarily barring Villanelle's path. "It was nice meeting you, too, Villanelle. I hope I'll be seeing you again soon."

"I'm sure I'll run into you here. Night."

It was after ten, and, deciding to shower at home, Villanelle hurriedly packed her gear. Outside, the storm had abated, leaving behind only a thick clinging mist that shimmered in the air and felt heavy on her skin. The gym that she had discovered in the neighborhood guide and had joined just that evening was a brisk ten-minute walk from her apartment. She decided to take the "long" way home by circling a small corner park that bordered her street to the south.

It was a residential neighborhood and, late on a weeknight, the streets were deserted. Moisture floating in the air cast halos around the streetlights, and as Villanelle walked through the dark from one circle of light to the next, she felt isolated and eerily alone. That was a new feeling, that sense of being alone. Or to be accurate, she thought, her _awareness_ of being alone.

She'd either been too busy or too focused to notice before. She'd been on the fast track since she was fifteen years old, skipping a year of high school and then going to the states to enter an accelerated combined college and medical school program. At about the time others her age were finishing college and contemplating the benefits of taking a year off before entering graduate school, she had begun her internship. Nothing had stood in her way, nothing had ever slowed her down until everything had come to a screeching halt just when she thought she had accomplished her goal.

Villanelle was so immersed in her reminiscences that when a shape materialized out of the shadows, she gasped in surprise and stumbled to a halt. Realizing almost immediately that it was just another late-night stroller, she moved forward again, feeling foolish. As the figure neared, she stared, thinking at first that she merely imagined the familiar stride and unmistakable form.

"Eve?" Villanelle asked when it became apparent that she had not been mistaken.

Eve halted within touching distance of Villanelle, and Atticus obediently sat at her side. She brushed her hair back with one hand, taking a moment to hide her discomfort. She had been thinking about Villanelle, remembering the events of the afternoon again, and to see her suddenly appear was disorienting. "Hi. I... uh..." She motioned to Atticus with her chin. "Walking Atticus."

"I see that. Can I?"

Eve nodded.

Villanelle extended her fingers toward the dog and got a warm lick as a reward. "Hi, Atticus." She laughed. "He's very well behaved."

"That's an anomaly, I can assure you." Eve smiled, feeling foolish for her previous discomfort. "What about you? Kind of late for a stroll."

Villanelle lifted her gym bag. "Working out."

Eve shook her head. "Don't you ever relax?"

"It was either that or unpack boxes." Villanelle shrugged. "Seemed like a no-brainer to me."

By silent agreement, Eve turned around, and together they walked in the direction of their homes, making intermittent stops so that Atticus could smell a particularly delightful morsel of trash or leave his mark his territory.

"I take it you didn't have much time to move," Eve said conversationally.

Villanelle hesitated, then said, "I wasn't certain I would get this job, and then when I did, I only had a couple of weeks to find a place to live. I was lucky to get one so close to work."

"Do you intend to bike all winter?"

"As long as I can. I can always walk if the weather gets too bad."

Eve laughed. "I think you'll change your mind around January. I'll see what I can do about getting you a parking space in the doctors' lot. They're rare as hen's teeth, but I'll cash in on some favors."

"Don't bother," Villanelle said without thinking. "I can't drive."

"What? You don't know how to drive?"

"No, I... uh... _don't_ drive," Villanelle amended quickly. "No car."

Eve cocked her head and gave Villanelle a curious stare. _She's lying._ She knew it as surely as she had ever known anything. _But why?_

"Well, then. I'll hold on to those favors."

"Thanks anyway," Villanelle said awkwardly. Being around Eve made her forget her usual caution, which was not only disconcerting but dangerous.

"This is my house," Eve said, indicating a dwelling set back from the street behind a white picket fence.

"Good night, Eve," Villanelle said softly.

"See you tomorrow." Eve turned quickly into the driveway, pulling Atticus along while ignoring the insistent urge to watch until Villanelle disappeared from sight. But as much as she would have liked to, it was hard to deny that she was already looking forward to seeing Villanelle in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos. Updates every Sunday!


	6. Mushrooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! I was on a family trip and then lost power for a bit, so I had barely any time to write. I'm back on schedule, I hope you guys haven't forgotten too much. Enjoy!

_Eve leaned over the bed, her stethoscope against the chest of a ten-year-old asthmatic, listening to the airflow in and out with each cycle of respiration. A few scattered wheezes still remained, but she was satisfied that the inhalation therapy she had prescribed to ease the constriction in the little boy's bronchial passages had begun to work. She looked up as Elena poked her head around the edge of the curtain. The expression on Elena's face brought Eve hurrying toward her._

_"What is it?" From the alarm on her friend's face, she expected to hear that there'd been a multi-vehicular crash on the Schuylkill Expressway and that they were expecting six major traumas._

_"Rodney just called from the job site. There's been an accident."_

_"Accident? What kind of accident?"_

_"I don't know. Something about Mel being in an accident. Then the ambulance arrived and he had to go."_

_"Ambulance? For Mel? " Eve's heart began to race. "Mel's been in an accident? What happened?"_

_"That's all he said, honey. That's all I know."_

_Eve looked around the emergency room as if seeing it for the first time. Everything was so white, so sterile, so incredibly impersonal._ Mel. They're bringing Mel here. _Eve was a second-year resident, and until two minutes ago, she had thought she could handle anything._ Mel _. She took a breath, reminded herself that this was her domain, her kingdom. She could handle what was coming. That's what she did. She'd take care of Mel._

_"Did they say how bad?" Her voice came out hoarse, but steady._

_"Nothing." Elena's eyes were round, the pupils dilated. "Rodney... wasn't making a lot of sense. I'm sorry."_

_Eve's chest was tight, every breath an effort, and when she started toward trauma one, she found that her feet would barely move._ Surely it's nothing serious. Contractors are always getting banged up. Twisted knees, jammed shoulders, bumps on the head. God, I hope she wasn't fooling around with the carpenters again. She knows how much I hate her doing anything with those damn power tools. She's supposed to be the job foreman—keeping the crews organized-not spending her time actually rebuilding the damn houses!

_"Can you get the ambulance on the radio?" Eve finally managed to start moving. "Get an update on her condition?"_

_"Sure." Eve nodded vigorously. "Right away."_

_Before Elena had a chance to make that call, the ambulance bay doors burst open and three EMTs pushing a stretcher came crashing through. One look at the still form strapped to a backboard with sandbags on either side of the pale face turned Eve's legs to jelly, and her stomach heaved._ Not just a minor accident. Oh my God.

_When she tried to speak, no words came out. When she tried to raise her hand, her arm felt leaden. As if in a dream, she watched, nearly paralyzed, as Elena directed the EMTs into the procedure room. Two ER attendings, another resident, and as many nurses rushed after them. Finally, Eve followed._

_At the threshold, Eve halted, staring at the flurry of activity surrounding her lover. She recognized the routine, but it seemed so out of place with Mel lying there so still. After only a moment, the activity abruptly halted, and Elena materialized from the crowd, a strange look in her eyes. She walked to Eve and took her arm._

_"Come over here, honey."_

_Eve protested when Elena started to draw her away from the room. "No. I have to help. I have to take care of her."_

_"Eve... Eve, sweetheart, her neck is broken. It must have been instantaneous." Elena's face was somber. "There's nothing they can do. She's gone,_ _sweetheart."_

_"Of course she isn't. That's ridiculous. " Eve turned and started back toward trauma one. This time, it was as if she were swimming against a tidal wave. As hard as she tried, she couldn't seem to make any progress. It was difficult to see, there was so much water in her eyes. She kept wiping them, but the moisture covered her cheeks, blurring her vision. Beneath the roar of the rushing water, she could hear Elena's voice, soothing and gentle._

_"Eve. She's gone. "_

_By the time Eve forced her way through the crowd, she could see through her tears. That's when she knew they were wrong. Mel was just asleep. There wasn't a mark on her face or her body. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful, and she was warm when Eve rested her fingers against her cheek. Her lover looked just exactly as she had that morning, still bundled under the covers of their bed when Eve had kissed her goodbye. Of course she wasn't gone._

_"Mel, honey?" Eve leaned down, her lips close to her lover's ear. She could smell the distinct scent of her shampoo. "It's Eve, love. Can you please just wake up for a few minutes? I only want to hear your voice, and then you can go right back to sleep. I promise._

_Elena, tears streaming down her cheeks, wrapped her arm around Eve's waist. "Sweetheart, she can't hear you. She's gone, baby."_

_Eve straightened, furious. "Will you stop saying that! Can't you see she's just asleep?"_

_Over Elena's shoulder, Eve could see the expressions on the faces of her friends and colleagues. Pity, sadness, compassion. She reached out and picked up Mel's left hand, running her thumb over the gold band on her ring finger that matched her own. With her other hand, she brushed the hair from her lover's forehead, then leaned down again and softly kissed her lips. "I love you. You know that, right? Forever and always._

With a start, Eve jerked awake, gasping. The room was dark, and when she turned her head, she saw that there were still fifteen minutes until her alarm was due to go off. Heart pounding, she lay in the damp sheets, waiting for the faint nausea to pass.

_God, I haven't dreamt of that in so long._

For the first year after Mel's death, she had revisited the scene countless times, in her dreams and in her waking moments. Sometimes it had been with the absolute clarity of perfect recall, as this dream had been, other times merely a jumble of distorted images as she searched frantically through dark mists and frightening shadows, knowing that Mel was waiting for her just at the edge of awakening, But each time she awakened, she had been alone.

As the years had passed, the dreams had become less frequent and eventually had stopped.

_Six years, and I still miss you so much._

With a sigh, Eve rolled over and turned off the alarm. She slipped from bed and reached for the robe thrown over the nearby ancient upholstered reading chair. Pulling it on as she walked, she padded quietly down the hall to Vivian's room. She peeked inside and saw with relief that her daughter was sleeping soundly. There had been a time when Eve's nightmares had been accompanied by screams. Thankfully, that had stopped.

Vivian had been just over a year old when Mel had died and had no memory of her. Eve had never been sure whether that was a good or bad thing. She was happy that their daughter had not consciously suffered the loss of a mother, but she would be eternally saddened that Vivian would never know Mel, who had dreamed along with Eve of conceiving her and raising her together as a family.

Sighing, pushing the memories aside, Eve headed downstairs to start the coffee. Phyllis would arrive soon to get Vivian off to day camp after Eve left for work. She had just finished pouring her first cup when Phyllis came in through the back door.

"Rough night?" Phyllis asked as she helped herself to coffee.

"How do you do that?

"Do what?" Phyllis brushed the tousled bangs off Eve's forehead.

"Always know."

Phyllis shrugged. "You have incredibly expressive eyes. And this morning, they're sad."

"Just bad dreams." Eve smiled wanly, knowing she didn't have to explain. Phyllis had moved in with Eve and Vivian after Mel's death and had stayed for six months before "moving" back to her house. She'd been there for the nightmares and the screams and the agony of loss, bearing up under her own pain to help her daughter's lover cope.

"Something happen to get you stirred up?"

"No, why?" Eve knew she sounded defensive and had no idea why. Thankfully, Phyllis didn't seem offended.

"It's been a long time since you've been bothered. When things come up again like that, it's usually because something has changed."

"Nothing has changed." Abruptly, Eve took her coffee cup and headed toward the winding rear stairs that led from the kitchen to the floor above. "I've got to get moving or else I'll be late."

Wordlessly, Phyllis watched her go. She loved Eve every bit as much as she had loved Mel and watching Eve's devastation had pained her almost as much as the agony of losing her child. The sadness of that loss was eternal, and she would always miss Mel, but with time, she had let go of the pain. She had always hoped that someday Eve would as well.

 _Everyone comes to their own truth in their own time_ , she reminded herself. _Eve will do the same._

~

Villanelle rolled over in her sleeping bag with a groan and grabbed her right shoulder. A cramp so severe she wanted to scream out loud gripped the muscle in her shoulder, and it took her a full thirty seconds of massaging it before the charley horse eased. She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

"That's it. Tomorrow I'm getting the bedroom together."

The next day she was off. She could spend the entire morning getting her apartment organized. Then she remembered Elena's barbecue in the afternoon and briefly contemplated canceling, but feared that if she did, Elena might show up on her doorstep demanding to know where she was. The woman was persistent.

And, Villanelle had to admit, she was looking forward to seeing Eve away from the emergency room. Although why, she couldn't imagine. Eve showed not the slightest interest in her, and she was clearly involved in a relationship.

"That's probably just what I need. As soon as I see her with her partner, I'll stop thinking about her smile."

As she heaved herself to her feet and rummaged around in a nearby container for clean jeans and a shirt, Villanelle tried to pretend that she wasn't lying to herself.

~

"There's our fearless new attending," Elena commented as she pulled the car wide around Villanelle on her bicycle. It had stopped raining, but the streets were still slick.

Eve glanced out the window from the passenger seat as they passed Villanelle. "God, you'd think she'd at least have the good sense to wear a helmet."

"There's hardly much traffic at this time, or on this street at any time of day," Elena pointed out, surprised at the vehemence in Eve's voice.

"All it takes is one car to hit her."

"You okay?"

"Yes, of course."

Elena spared her friend a quick glance, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes. "You don't look okay. Is Vivian all right?"

"She's doing fine. The first thing she did when she woke up this morning was run into the bathroom to look at her eye. Now she can't wait to show everyone at school."

Both women laughed.

"So what's going on?"

"Absolutely nothing," Eve insisted. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Okay. I'll stop nudging."

"Promises, promises."

After gathering their lunches and briefcases from the car, they walked toward the ER. Villanelle cycled to a halt nearby and dismounted.

"Hi," Villanelle called, shrugging out of her backpack as she looked in their direction.

"Hi." Elena smiled brightly and gave a little wave.

"You ought to get a helmet," Eve noted sharply as she passed.

Villanelle stared after her. _Good morning to you, too._

_~_

"I need your opinion," Villanelle said quietly, folding her arms on the counter and looking down at Eve, who was seated on the opposite side. When her transfixing brown eyes met hers, Villanelle's pulse gave a little jump. She cleared her throat. "If you've got a minute."

"Of course." Eve initialed the lab report she was reviewing, clipped it to her current patient's chart, and regarded Villanelle neutrally. They'd barely said one word to each other for the entire ten hours of the shift. It had been a busy day, but even with that, she had the feeling they were _both_ intentionally avoiding one another. Still, seeing her brought a whisper of warmth to Eve's depths. Carefully keeping her voice steady, she asked, "What have you got?"

"A seventeen-year-old girl with severe abdominal pain, nausea, and vomiting."

"Pelvic inflammatory disease?" One of the common causes of abdominal pain in young women was an infection in the uterus or fallopian tubes from sexually transmitted diseases, most often gonorrhea. Eve was surprised that Villanelle was asking _her_ opinion about someone with abdominal pain because that was one of the classic symptom complexes surgeons were taught to evaluate and diagnose.

"Nope." Villanelle turned to face Eve as she came around the counter. They were close enough to touch, but the distance between them was palpable.

"She denies recent sexual activity, and I believe her. Her pelvic exam is completely unremarkable."

"You don't think it's surgical, I take it."

"No, I don't. At first, I thought it was a simple case of viral gastroenteritis," Villanelle said, frowning. "But the symptoms seem too marked for that."

"Food poisoning?"

"That's my working diagnosis, but it just doesn't feel right." Villanelle ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. "She _says_ she thinks it's from bad seafood that she had last night at a friend's house.

Eve nodded, watching Villanelle's eyes darken to nearly forest green. _She's so intense. So focused. So_... Abruptly, Eve reached for the chart that Villanelle held in her right hand, dragging her eyes from Villanelle's face and forcing herself to concentrate. "Does she have a fever or a headache?"

"No. And she says the pain only started two hours ago."

"Where is she? There's something off about this."

Villanelle led Eve to the patient's cubicle. When they entered, she said, "Marie, this is Dr. Polastri. I've asked her to take a look at you."

The girl, pale and shaking, looked frightened. "Why? What's wrong?"

"We're just trying to figure that out," Eve said kindly. She took the young woman's wrist and felt her pulse, which was weak and racing. The skin beneath her fingers was clammy and damp. As she watched, a tear slid from beneath the girl's lashes. Then another. The girl seemed unaware of the steady trickle.

"We can't take care of you properly if we don't have all the information,"

Eve said, her eyes fixed on the girl's face. Another tear slid down the pale cheek. "Did you eat anything strange, besides the... _seafood_?"

Villanelle stood across the bed from Eve, watching. Eve's eyes were compassionate, but she exuded a sense of strength and command that was compelling. She had an air of certainty that made you believe you could lean on her. _Jesus, where did that come from?_

"What do you mean?" The girl's voice was tremulous now.

"Are any of your friends sick, too?"

 _Friends?_ Villanelle couldn't figure out what was going on, but it was clear that Eve was after something.

"I don't know. I left..." The young woman looked away.

"...the party?" Eve finished.

The girl nodded miserably.

"When was this?"

"This afternoon. A pool party this afternoon."

"And you all took the mushrooms?"

 _Mushrooms? What the hell?_ Villanelle shook her head. _I sure missed the boat on this one._

At the girl's pitiful expression of assent, Eve turned to Villanelle. "A. _muscaria_ poisoning... excessive tearing, nausea, vomiting, acute abdominal pain, excess salivation, and a host of other symptoms. Kids take the mushrooms thinking they're going to be hallucinogenic, but most of the time they're just poison."

"Treatment?" Villanelle asked sharply.

"She'll need an IV, a gastric washout with activated charcoal to bind whatever toxin hasn't been absorbed from her stomach already, and some medication to counteract what has gotten into her system. I'll go over the meds with you in a minute." She turned back to the young patient. "I'll need the address where the party is, and we're going to have to call your parents."

"They're in Martha's Vineyard."

"I guess they'll need to come back, then."

It took close to three hours for Eve and Villanelle to stabilize the young woman and the two friends whom the police found in a comparable state of toxicity at the home of one of the teenagers. By that time, it was close to nine p.m.

"Man, am I glad I asked you to take a look at her." Villanelle arched her back and groaned. "If I'd sent her home, who knows what would have happened. Christ."

Eve heard the self-recrimination in Villanelle's voice. "Listen, Villanelle, the important thing is that you sensed that something unusual was going on, and that's what counts down here. No one expects you to know everything."

"You seem to know it all."

"Yes, but that's because I'm the boss."

Their eyes held for a second, and then they both laughed.

"So, can I buy you a late dinner?" Villanelle asked impulsively. When she saw Eve flush, she realized that the invitation was inappropriate. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

"Uh, thanks. But I should get home. My mother-in-law is with Vivian, and—"

"That's okay. I understand," Villanelle said quickly. "Thanks for your help, Eve. I appreciate it."

"No problem." For a second, Eve hesitated, thinking that she could call Phyllis and ask her to stay with Vivian a little while longer. Then she caught herself. _What am I doing? I can't go out to dinner with her Mixing business with pleasure is always a bad idea, and Villanelle Astankova has trouble written all over her._

Abruptly, Eve stepped away. "Good night, Villanelle."

Villanelle just nodded, feeling supremely foolish and inexplicably disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing updates to once a week just to give myself a little bit more time to write better chapters, either on Sunday or Wednesday, it will vary from time to time. Sorry for any inconvenience!


	7. Hold Steady

"So what happened with the mushroom kids?" Elena asked as she arranged carrot and celery sticks on a serving platter. "Sorry I couldn't work overtime and help out. Robin had bowling."

"No problem. Villanelle stayed. We finally got them all washed out and stabilized around nine." Eve stirred the sour cream and chives dip and scooped it into a small bow. "I haven't seen anything like that since I was in college. Thank God I was smart enough then not to try it."

"I'm amazed you recognized it."

"Classic presentation." Eve shrugged. "It's right there in the ER manual."

"Sure, and so are about a thousand other things."

"I'm lucky. I have a memory for abstruse facts."

"Uh-huh." Elena knew that there was a reason that Eve was the ER chief and not other well-qualified candidates. Eve had been a star, even as a med student. She just had that uncanny sixth sense that made some people true physicians. Eve had the art as well as the skill for healing. "But we both know it takes more than memorizing what's in the book to recognize it when you see it."

Embarrassed by the praise, Eve kept her eyes down, busying herself with peeling potatoes for the salad. "Besides, Villanelle was the one to pick up that something was off. I was just the cleanup batter."

"Right." Elena snorted, separating chicken pieces into separate bowls. "I agree with you about Villanelle, though. She not only has good hands, but she's also got good instincts."

Eve thought about Villanelle's hands, about how they were an embodiment of the woman herself. Certain and sure in the midst of a crisis, moving with a surgeon's self-assured touch. Then, surprisingly, so gentle and tender when she had cared for Vivian. A heady mixture, especially in a woman so confident and alluring and—

"Eve? Hello?"

"Huh?" Eve jumped, startled. "Sorry. I was... wandering."

"I noticed." Elena cocked her head and gave Eve a long stare. "What's up?"

Eve shook her head and reached for the onions. "Absolutely nothing."

~

Villanelle stood in the middle of her living room and turned slowly, surveying her progress."Not bad."

She'd maneuvered the two bookcases against the wall opposite the windows and unpacked most of her books. The sofa and the television were situated so she could sit on one and see the other. She needed a coffee table, she realized. Villanelle hadn't acquired much furniture while in Manhattan, because she had subleased a furnished apartment during her year of trauma training, and had planned to buy a place once she had settled into her new position as an attending at St. Michael's. Now, she wasn't sure what she would be doing in another year.

 _No point going there. Time to start on the bedroom._ She tried to remember where she had seen the box marked _sheets_ and on her way down the hall, glanced at the plain, round clock she had hung from a hook in the kitchen. _Almost noon._ She skittered to a stop.

"Hell. I still have to shower, get dressed, and figure out where to buy wine." A surge of happiness caused her to smile. "Guess I can't do any more unpacking."

Thirty minutes later, she was clean and dressed in a t-shirt tucked loosely into cuffed jeans. She looked up places that sold alcohol nearby and found a wine and liquor store a couple of miles from her apartment. She slid her wallet into her rear pocket, her keys into her right front one, and set out.

Once in the liquor store, she took a few minutes to choose both a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine. Then it occurred to her that she should bring something for the hostess.

"Where's Konstantin when I really need advice?" she muttered to herself. Carolyn Martens had been more than just Villanelle's former boss. The chief of trauma at St. Michael's, and her partner, Konstantin Vasiliev, a documentary filmmaker, had been good friends. The year of her trauma fellowship had been an intense time when she had spent nearly seventy-five percent of her waking hours in Marten's company. In addition to their constant physical proximity and similar professional goals, they had discovered a number of other interests in common. Now Villanelle owed her present job to Carolyn and a great deal of her sanity to Konstantin.

Giving herself a shake, Villanelle took the wine to the counter and paid. Then she stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked around for some kind of shop where she could pick up a small thank-you gift for Elena.

~

"Eve, could you get that?" Elena, up to her wrists in potato salad, asked when the doorbell rang.

"Sure." Eve reached for the dishtowel and dried her hands on the way to the front door. She pushed the screen door open and regarded the woman who stood on the other side with her arms laden with packages. She took in the light blue shirt that complimented her warm eyes and the half-shy, half-cocky grin on her face. "Hi, Villanelle."

"Hi." Villanelle's initial surprise at seeing Eve at the door was quickly eclipsed by the sight of Eve in casual clothes. She wore cargo shorts, a tank top, and a cuffed-sleeve, open flannel that displayed her smoothly toned arms and legs. Her hair was pulled back with some kind of tie and she looked good. For some reason, Villanelle always had difficulty not looking at Eve's body, and today was no exception. The tank top clung to her curves in all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination to make Villanelle's throat go dry and her pulse race.

Both women jumped at the sound of Elena's voice behind them.

"I thought maybe you got lost out here, Eve. Hi, Villanelle." Elena looked from her friend to Villanelle and back again, noting the charged energy. Smiling to herself, she reached out her arms. "I take it those are for me?"

"Yeah," Villanelle mumbled as she shifted bags around, handing over the wine. "I got red and white because I couldn't figure out what else to do." Both Eve and Elena laughed. Eve finally stepped aside so Villanelle could enter.

"And this is for you and your family." Villanelle held out a rectangular package about the size of a shoebox.

"Oh, a present!" Elena shamelessly clutched the box to her chest while simultaneously pushing the wine into Eve's arms. "I _love_ presents. Let's go into the kitchen so I can open this.

Not waiting for a reply, Elena turned and hurried away, leaving Eve and Villanelle to follow.

"How did you know?" Eve asked, laughing gently.

"Know what?"

"That she adores surprises."

"Just lucky."

Eve glanced up at Villanelle, aware that Villanelle had been watching her intently as they walked through the house. "That was very nice of you."

"It was kind of her to invite me."

 _Yes, and I didn't want her_ to. At the moment, Eve couldn't remember why that was. She was happy to see her new colleague in a way she couldn't explain.

"Will you two hurry up," Elena called from the kitchen.

"Go ahead, open the darn thing," Eve said affectionately as she and Villanelle crowded around Elena at the kitchen table.

Elena lifted the lid from the box and carefully folded back the tissue paper, giving a small cry of pleasure. Carefully, she lifted out a small crystal wind chime. The delicate glass rods, suspended from a polished silver disk by clear nylon strands sparkled with a rainbow of colors. When she gently brushed them with her fingers, the tinkling sounds were high and pure.

"It's beautiful," Elena breathed. She glanced at Villanelle in delight. "Thank you so much. That was so kind of you."

Villanelle blushed. "My pleasure."

"I think we should put it in the tree in the backyard, don't you, Eve?"

"Sure. You'll be able to hear it inside when the windows are open."

"Could you put it up now?" Elena gave Eve a hopeful glance. "Pleeaase?"

Eve smiled, shaking her head. "Can anyone ever say no to you?"

"Not that I can ever recall," Robin said fondly as she came through the back door. She nodded at Villanelle and extended her hand. "Hi. I'm Robin, Elena's wife."

"Villanelle." Villanelle took the sturdy hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you."

"Look, honey." Elena held up the wind chime, causing the rods to ring melodiously once again. "Villanelle brought it for us. Isn't it great?"

"Beautiful." Robin slid her arm around Elena's waist and kissed her cheek. "I'd put it up for you myself, but I just fired up the grill. Aren't I supposed to be cooking something?"

"You go tend to the barbecue," Eve said, reaching for the wind chimes.

"I'll put this up. Where's the ladder?"

"In the garage," Robin said. "If you give me a minute, I'll get it for you."

Eve shook her head. "No worries. I can find it. The tools are in there, too, aren't they?"

"Wait until Robin can help," Elena cautioned. "I don't want you climbing up in that tree by yourself. All we need is for you to fall and break your ne..."

Elena's face paled as her words trailed of. She looked stricken.

Eve blinked, then gave her friend a kind smile. Her voice was gentle when she spoke. "Not to worry.

"I'll give her a hand," Villanelle volunteered into the silence that ensued. She glanced at Eve, trying to decipher the expression on her face. Not unhappiness exactly—more like a poignant sadness. Hesitantly, she added, "If that's okay."

"Perfect," Elena said, squeezing Eve's hand and then making shooing motions with her own. "Everybody out so I can get the rest of this organized. Robin, who has kid duty?"

"Phyllis is playing Trivial Pursuit Junior with the older ones, and Bill and Sue are taking a lifeguard shift by the pool."

"Okay, then. All bases are covered. Go. Go."

Obediently, the three trooped out. Villanelle and Eve headed for the garage behind the house while Robin returned to the center of activity in the backyard.

"Looks like quite a crowd," Villanelle observed, taking in the gathering of people of all ages. She had a moment of feeling completely out of place, but when she glanced at Eve, she didn't care. She just liked being around her.

"Elena and Robin's parties are legend. Plus, once they invite all their kids' friends, then they have to invite all the parents. Most everybody knows everybody else because of soccer, anyhow.

"Soccer is big here, I take it," Villanelle remarked, standing aside as Eve rolled up the garage door.

"You could say that." Eve laughed. "From the middle of the summer until the snow falls, our lives revolve around soccer. Afternoon practices, Saturday morning games-which, by the way, start next weekend and all of the events surrounding that. It's a social phenomenon."

"Sounds like fun." Villanelle realized that she meant it. She hadn't done much of anything except study and work for over a decade. She had participated in organized sports in college, but once involved in the clinical portion of her medical training, followed quickly by residency, she hadn't done anything except work. It occurred to her as she watched Eve sorting through a toolbox that she'd never had anything approaching a normal life. She wasn't sure she wanted one. Or that she'd know what to do, even if she had one. _That hardly matters since it's not likely to happen._

Eve turned abruptly, a hammer in her hand, and caught the contemplative look on Villanelle's face. Those piercing green eyes were fixed on her, but Eve didn't think the other woman was actually seeing her. She appeared lost in thought, and there was a hint of both melancholy and resignation in her expression. It surprised Eve and just as quickly touched a chord in her. For one wild moment, she had the irrational urge to reach out and stroke her cheek.

"Found it," Eve said softly.

Villanelle gave a small start, then smiled sheepishly. "How about the ladder?"

"Over there," Eve indicated with an index finger. "Can you handle it? I'm going to hunt for a hook of some kind."

"No problem." Villanelle took the ladder down from the double hooks that held it to the wall and rested it over one shoulder. She carefully maneuvered it out of the garage, taking care not to pivot abruptly and hit Eve's head. "Ready when you are."

Eve, carrying the tools and the wind chime, led the way around the perimeter of the crowd toward a large maple that loomed high above the rear corner of the house. A horizontal limb stretched out above the back deck below and arched over the slanted roof toward the rear bedroom windows. Eve pointed upward. "That's Elena and Robin's bedroom. If we get this up on that branch, they'll be able to hear it in the house."

Villanelle craned her neck and estimated the distance. "It's probably twenty feet up to that limb. How are you on heights?"

"Piece of cake." Eve studied Villanelle speculatively. "Why?"

"I... uh... I hate being more than two feet above sea level. I have to take Valium to get into an airplane."

"Why, Astankova," Eve laughed, charmed by the blush that gradually spread over Villanelle's face. "I never would have imagined that a confident, alluring doctor like you would be afraid of anything.

Villanelle's eyebrows raised at precisely the same instant Eve's eyes grew wide with shock.

_Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that._

_Did she just say that I was alluring?_

"I mean... that is..."

"Ah... I..."

Eve finally recovered her voice, if not her composure. She pointed over her head with the hammer. "Shall we?"

Villanelle nodded, then realized that she still held the ladder balanced on her shoulder and quickly moved forward. She found level ground for the foot supports and braced the top against the tree limb. Just looking up made her queasy. As Eve stepped onto the first rung, she murmured, "I'm quite happy to be not as confident in this particular instance, Dr. Polastri. As unusual as that may be."

A flush rose up the back of Eve's neck. "Just hold steady."

"Don't worry," Villanelle said firmly. "I'm not letting go."

Eve turned and looked down into Villanelle's eyes. She found the calm strength in them comforting. "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

As Eve made her way nimbly up the ladder, Vivian appeared by Villanelle's side. "Hi, Villanelle."

"Hi, Vivian." Villanelle spared Vivian a glance before looking back up to where Eve now leaned out to one side, screwing a small hook into the horizontal portion of the tree limb. "How are you doing?"

"My stitches itch."

"Uh-huh." Villanelle couldn't take her eyes off Eve. _Don't stretch out so far. Jesus!_

"What's my mom doing up there?"

"She's hanging a wind chime."

"Is that what's making that noise?"

"Uh-huh." Villanelle's throat was dry and her pulse racing. Eve's thighs were braced against the ladder, but she wasn't holding on since she needed both arms to affix the nylon loop over the hook. _Hurry up. If you stay up there much longer, I'm going to embarrass myself._

"Neat." Having satisfied her curiosity, Vivian ran off to rejoin her friends.

To Villanelle's complete and utter relief, Eve started to back down the ladder. Now that her anxiety was going away, Villanelle was met with another disadvantage: the toned thighs and captivating backside coming her way. She stood with her legs spread on either side of the ladder and both arms holding it just above shoulder level to steady it. As Eve descended, she unconsciously slid down between Villanelle's arms until her body was between Villanelle and the ladder. As Eve's hair brushed Villanelle's cheek, Villanelle's mouth was millimeters from Eve's neck. Her breasts pressed lightly against Eve's back. If she moved her hips forward half an inch, her pelvis would rest against the soft swell of Eve's backside.

And Villanelle very much wanted to do just that. She could smell Eve's sweet scent—spices and fruit and some deeper aroma, like warm fertile earth just turned in the sun. There were tiny beads of sweat collected along the edge of her jaw, and Villanelle couldn't focus on anything but the body in front of her. Her heart pounded wildly, her stomach did one slow roll, and everything from her waist down turned to fire. She gasped sharply, surprised by the hard pulse of desire.

"Villanelle." Eve's voice was pitched low, husky.

"Yes?" The word came out on a warm breath that lifted the hair at the base of Eve's neck.

"I can't get to the ground unless you move." Eve turned her head, her lips almost brushing Villanelle's ear. Villanelle's body was like a furnace, throwing off enough heat to warm her all the way through. To sear her in places that had been untouched for so long that the sensation terrified her. She trembled. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Villanelle said quickly, stepping back. _Holy God. What am I doing? She's married!_

Eve made it down and turned. Her voice was shaking, but she smiled. "No problem. Thanks for the spot."

"Sure."

Villanelle lifted a hand toward Eve's face, and Eve's eyes grew round. Carefully, Villanelle brushed her fingers through Eve's hair. "You've got a leaf in your hair.

Eve held her breath as gentle fingers extracted the offending object. In her mind's eye, she could see Villanelle's hand gently cradling a beating heart. _W_ _onderful hands_ _._

"There you go." Villanelle released the leaf and it fluttered away on the breeze. Her eyes bore into Eve's. _You're so beautiful._

"I should get this stuff back to the garage." Eve indicated the ladder and tools, but she didn't move.

Villanelle shook her head. "I'll do it. I think your presence is required elsewhere."

Eve looked in the direction that Villanelle indicated. Vivian was waving frantically, trying to get her attention. It looked as if she was ready to go into the pool. "So it seems. I should go."

"Yes."

Motionless, Villanelle watched as Eve walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, dangling her legs over the side while Vivian joined half a dozen children in the water. The sunlight sparkled on her hair, and Villanelle remembered the way those soft strands had felt sliding through her fingers just minutes before. It felt like forever before the trembling in her legs subsided enough for her to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! I hope you enjoyed it. The sexual tension builds! By the way, the next couple of chapters are going to be set at the barbeque. Thank you for all the nice and encouraging comments!


	8. Eyes on You

Eve watched the clear blue water swirl and splash around her feet as she circled her legs in the pool. The churning waves echoed the turmoil she was suddenly feeling as if she were sure to break into a million droplets and fly away with the wind. She clutched the edge of the pool so tightly her knuckles turned white. _What's happening to me?_

"Mom! Watch me, Mom," Vivian called.

Dutifully, Eve raised her head and smiled as her daughter cannonballed into the deep end of the pool. Mel had taught Vivian to swim as an infant, and she was as comfortable in water as she was on land. Eve nodded encouragingly when Vivian broke through the surface and looked expectantly in her direction, but her mind was elsewhere. She turned her head a fraction and glanced back toward the house. Villanelle still stood beneath the maple, the ladder upright by her side, one arm hooked over a rung. There was no doubt that she was incredibly attractive. She was standing there, looking directly at Eve. _Looking at me like I'm the only one here._

Quickly, Eve turned away. Her heart pounded, and she still sensed the faint pressure of Villanelle's body against her back. As Villanelle's chest had brushed fleetingly against her, she had felt the unmistakable impression of nipples hardening beneath soft fabric. Villanelle's, and her own. She closed her eyes. The rush of arousal that had accompanied that brief contact was overwhelming. It was the last thing she had expected to feel. The furthest thing from her desires. She had neither sought nor welcomed the excitement, but her body had embraced it as naturally as the next breath. She was stunned, horrified, and completely undone. _I don't want this. I don't._

Mechanically, Villanelle carried the ladder and tools back to the garage and stowed them away. She pulled down the door and then stood by the corner of the building to look out over the wide rectangular yard. A split-rail fence, nearly obscured by small trees and shrubs, ran along the opposite side and rear, isolating the property from the view of neighbors. A wooden picnic table sat under the huge maple tree, and lawn chairs were scattered about nearby. A long expanse of grass ran down the gently sloping rear of the property, and a swimming pool occupied a portion of that area. The pool was currently the center of activity, with most of the children in it, and a fair number of their parents sitting nearby and observing.

But only one person captured Villanelle's attention. It was as if no one existed for her except Eve. She wanted to be sitting there in the sun beside her, watching the children swim, talking of nothing and everything. She wanted the hand that curled around the edge of the pool to be resting on her thigh, the way it had done so briefly in the car. Lightly, casually, confidently—as if she were Eve's own.

Villanelle made her way across the yard and settled down at the picnic table, straddling the bench sideways, her right arm stretched out along the slatted tabletop. From where she sat, she could see Eve in profile. She could still smell her, rich and tantalizing. She could still feel her, warm and strong as she gently rested against Villanelle's body.

Involuntarily, her nipples tightened as they had done at that first startling contact, and ached. Her fingers trembled as they lay against the rain-grayed wood.

_This is impossible. For so many reasons. Then why don't I want the feelings to stop?_

But she knew why. She watched as Eve lifted her hand again to brush stray strands of hair from her cheek. The unconscious movement was both gentle and sure. Somehow she knew Eve's hands would feel the same on her skin. And she wanted that, and all that would follow.

~

Phyllis stopped Elena on her way out of the house with another tray of appetizers. "Quite the party, my dear."

"Having fun?"

"Loads of fun." Phyllis, who was dressed for the occasion in loose tan cotton slacks, a brightly colored embroidered blouse, and an enormous straw farmer's hat, surveyed the crowd. "I notice there's an interesting-looking newcomer, too."

Elena followed Phyllis's gaze and saw Villanelle seated at the picnic table, gazing toward the pool where Eve sat with her legs in the water. Villanelle's face was a study in desire. "Phew. Hot out, isn't it?"

"Mmm. She seems to be enchanted by Eve."

"Uh..." _Lord, this is Eve's mother-in-law. What do I say?_

"That wouldn't be... Villanelle, would it?"

"How did you know that?" Elena turned surprised eyes to Phyllis.

"Two reasons." Phyllis reached over and snagged a cream cheese-covered celery stick. "Viv hasn't stopped talking about her since the day she got her head cracked, and every time her name is mentioned, Eve gets cranky." _Plus, Eve hasn't been sleeping well, and that young woman over there looks hungry to the bone._

"Yes, that's Villanelle. I guess you know she's a new ER attending."

"Uh-huh. I also gather she and Eve aren't getting along?" Phyllis shaded her eyes, automatically checking for Vivian in the pool. Eve, she noticed, looked shell-shocked. _Something has happened, all right. Is it that girl who's turned you inside out, sweetie?_

Elena hesitated, reluctant to discuss Eve without her friend's knowledge.

"Don't mind me, I'm just being nosy." Phyllis patted her arm understandingly. "And you don't have to tell. I just couldn't help noticing that Villanelle hasn't looked anywhere except at Eve for the last ten minutes."

Carefully, Elena asked, "Does it... you know, bother you?"

Phyllis was silent a moment, and Elena said quickly, "God, me and my big mouth. I'm so sorry, Phyl. That was inappropr—"

"No, it wasn't. I don't mind you asking." Phyllis patted her arm again. "Most people wouldn't ask because they're afraid that mentioning the dead will bring up memories, as if we don't always carry some part of them with us." She smiled. "Talking about Mel, thinking about her, is not a hardship for me. She was the light of my life, just as Eve and Viv are now."

"Could you be my mom?" Elena asked, sighing. She meant it. Her own mother still refused to acknowledge her marriage and her children.

"Don't you know that I think of you and Robin and the kids as family, too?" Phyllis wrapped an arm around Elena's waist. "Just as much as my two girls."

Elena just nodded, afraid to speak lest she cries.

Phyllis stared across the yard at Villanelle, a stranger, who looked at Eve the way Mel once had. She felt many things, protective most of all. Eve carried scars, still bled from them on occasion, and Phyllis would do anything to see that she was not hurt again. _As if I could prevent it. If you live, you risk being hurt. If you never take the risk_... She sighed.

"Does it bother me that someone might be interested in Eve? That _Eve_ might be?" Phyllis watched her granddaughter swim over to Eve and look up at her with a brilliant smile. Eve leaned down and brushed the wet hair from Vivian's forehead, saying something that made the child grin. "Can you imagine how many times I've wished that Mel could see that child grow and help raise her with Eve?"

"No, I can't," Elena said softly. "But I know how many times I've wished for it."

"I suppose I might have fussed, five years ago. Maybe even three years ago." Phyllis shook her head. "Eve is lonely, and she has no idea how deeply."

"Yes."

Phyllis reached up and took the tray from Elena's hands. "So no, it doesn't bother me. Not if it turns out to be the right woman."

Elena watched Phyllis carry the food down to the picnic table and offer the hors d'oeuvres to Villanelle.

~

"Hello," Phyllis said, sliding the tray onto the table in front of Villanelle. "I'm Phyllis Murphy, Vivian's grandmother."

Villanelle jumped to her feet, extending her hand and hoping that the woman hadn't noticed her staring at Eve. "Villanelle Astankova, Ms. Murphy. Nice to meet you."

Smiling, Phyllis took Villanelle's hand, finding her courtly manners charming. "I haven't had anyone stand up for me in a very long time."

Villanelle grinned. "The world is being overrun with heathens."

"Indeed." Laughing, Phyllis slid onto the seat, patting the bench next to her. "Please."

Settling back down, Villanelle said, "Vivian seems to be doing well."

"Yes, famously. Speaking of which, you're her new hero."

Villanelle blushed. "She was the hero. Along with Eve."

"Eve?"

"She was great. Sometimes the hardest part of taking care of children is dealing with the parents. Kids take their cues from them, and if you have a hysterical parent, it's almost impossible to keep the child calm." Villanelle's face took on a distant expression. "I've had to take children to the operating room and sedate them to close minor wounds that I could've done in the trauma admitting area, except their parents wouldn't even let me try."

"I imagine it helps when the parents are doctors, like Eve."

"Don't you believe it," Villanelle pronounced with a laugh. "God save me from medical parents. But Eve was fabulous, calm and steady, and she let me do my job."

"She must trust you, then, if she let you take care of Viv."

Unconsciously, Villanelle glanced back to Eve, her gaze intent. "I hope so."

Phyllis smiled and reached for a carrot stick.

"By the way," Villanelle said. "Vivian is such a beautiful name. I do admire names that start with V." Phyllis chuckled alongside Villanelle.

"It's actually her middle name... her full name is Melia Vivian Polastri."

"What a great name. I'm surprised no one calls her Mel."

Caught off guard, Phyllis gave a small start. Then, her voice soft, she said, "We probably would have, but that's what most people called my daughter."

Villanelle turned her attention from Eve and met Phyllis's gaze. "Eve's... spouse?"

"Yes. Melanie. Mel."

 _That's what most people called my daughter._ Villanelle didn't need an explanation; she saw it in Phyllis's eyes. _Oh, Eve_. "I'm so terribly sorry."

"Thank you."

Villanelle didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what to feel. Tragedy was nothing new to her; in her specialty in particular, it was a common occurrence. Most of the time she kept the heartbreak of human frailty at a distance, doing what she could with the gifts she had been given, accepting that fate or circumstance were things she could not change. Sometimes, however, for reasons she could not discern, someone would reach past the barricades of her defenses and touch her heart. Their pain would become her pain until she was able to put it away again and carry on. But right now, all she felt was pain. Eve's and Phyllis's and Vivian's.

Watching her, Phyllis saw the flood of emotions cross her face and swirl in the depths of her incredibly green eyes. She was comforted by the unspoken understanding, and some of her concern for Eve's well-being abated. She had no idea what life held in store for _herself_ , much less for Eve and this intense young stranger—if anything at all. But she could see the extent of Villanelle's compassion, and she had seen the way that Villanelle had looked at Eve. If anything could draw Eve completely back into life, it would be that combination of love and desire.

Phyllis patted Villanelle's arm as if she were the one who needed solace. Then she smiled. "Robin is the best barbecue chef in the entire neighborhood. When lunch is ready, you must be sure to sit with Eve and Vivian and me. Vivian will love it."

Surprised, Villanelle agreed before she could think to say anything else. "Yes. Thank you."

"Now I'm going to go relieve Eve of lifeguard duty for a little while."

As Phyllis rose, Villanelle stood as well. "It was very nice meeting you."

"You too, my dear."

Villanelle contemplated following Phyllis down to the pool as a pretense to speak to Eve again. However, a voice stopped her.

"Hey, good-lookin'. I didn't expect to see you here."

Surprised, she looked around and found Nadia standing close enough that Villanelle's shoulder brushed her breasts as she turned. One quick glance down revealed another spandex top, this one stopping at her navel, and low-cut skintight shorts. Her body was as toned as Villanelle remembered.

"Uh... hello."

"Nadia, remember?" The brunette's tone suggested that she doubted anyone could forget.

"Of course." Perplexed, Villanelle looked around, searching for a partner or child. There didn't seem to be many unattached people at the party, although she didn't really know anyone well enough to be certain.

As if reading her mind, Nadia laughed and rested her fingertips on Villanelle's bare forearm. "I'm the anomaly in this gathering. A single lesbian without children."

Villanelle couldn't help but laugh. "Well then, that makes two of us."

"See there? We have something in common already, besides liking to work out and..." Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Other physical pursuits, I'll bet."

"So," Villanelle said casually, "I take it that you're a friend of Robin and Elena's?"

"Mmm. Believe it or not, I've lived here for years and still live just a block away. I ref in the soccer league." Her fingers glided lightly up and down Villanelle's arm. "I've known Elena and Robin for ages."

"Small world, I guess." Villanelle realized that Nadia had slid even closer as they were speaking and felt the pressure of Nadia's thigh against her own. She backed up as unobtrusively as possible.

"I'm quite a bit _younger_ than them, of course," Nadia informed her, her lips parting in a slow smile. "And they're so married."

"So... uh... you're into soccer." Villanelle wasn't in the mood to flirt. In fact, as attractive as Nadia was, Villanelle didn't have the slightest interest in pursuing anything further with her.

"Mmm-hmm." Nadia's fingers trailed feather-light across Villanelle's hand. "I played quite a bit in high school. Plus, my dad owns the gym, so it's good PR for the business if I'm involved."

"You like it?" The insistent touch was starting to get irritating.

"Sure. There are always so many interesting women around." Nadia stretched and pushed her hand through her hair, a practiced move that showcases her body. "It's so nice to see someone _extra special_ arrive on the scene, however."

As Nadia's hand returned to her waist, Villanelle backed up another step. "Uh-huh."

"Let's go find someplace more private so we can have lunch together."

"Thanks," Villanelle said quickly. "But I'm eating with Eve and her family."

Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Eve and I work together."

"How nice."

Her tone, however, suggested that was anything but true.

~

Eve walked into the kitchen and slammed the screen door. "You're out of Coke. Robin said it was in here somewhere?"

"You're ticked off because we ran out of soda?" Elena, her hands covered with barbecue sauce this time, blew hair off her forehead and gestured with her chin the pantry behind them. "Remind me again why I like to throw these parties? I haven't been out of this kitchen for more than fifteen minutes at a time."

"There are plenty of people to help you, if you'd only ask." Eve yanked open the pantry door. "Where? Never mind, I see it."

Elena rested her butt against the counter and wiped the worst of the sauce off with a paper towel, regarding Eve curiously. "Eve, honey? Who pissed in your Cheerios?"

Eve spun around, two six-packs of Coke in her hands. "Do you really have to invite _her_ to every one of these parties?"

"Just a minute while I translate that." Elena stared off into space. "Nadia's here, and she's annoying you already."

"She's practically crawling into Villanelle's pants right in the middle of the lawn."

Elena was momentarily speechless, then she rushed to the door. "Jesus."

"I swear to God, someone needs to put her on a leash." Eve slammed the cans down on the table, rattling the bowls of food.

Elena turned back, regarding Eve in amazement. "Are you still burned about something that happened ages ago? She was a child when she came on to Mel."

"She was _not_ a child. She was nineteen years old. And she didn't just _come on_ to her, she cornered her at the party and kissed her!" Eve grew red from the memory.

"As I remember Mel's version, it was over in a second, and she informed Nadia in no uncertain terms that she was off-limits." Elena recalled Mel recounting the story of Nadia catching her alone at the party, and Nadia's shock when Mel had told her to go away. It had been funny then, and it was funny now, but she held back a laugh because Eve was clearly upset. She just wasn't entirely certain what Eve was upset about. _She's practically crawling into Villanelle's pants..._ "Ah..."

"Ah, what?"

"Nothing," Elena said quickly. "So, what's Villanelle doing?"

"I have no idea, and I couldn't care less."

"Ookaay. So, if you're not going to be busy killing Nadia for a while, you want to help me with the chicken?"

Eve stared at her and then at the piles of chicken parts, contemplating homicide. _I'm losing my mind._ "Sure. Give me a really big knife."

The two friends grinned at one another, then broke into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! The next chapters are gonna be a bit hectic so beware, secrets and pasts are gonna start being revealed. Hope you keep enjoying! :)


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